The Hunger Games: Howling Hate
by CragmiteBlaster
Summary: The vast majority of those in the Districts hate the Capitol, and what they do to people. The District 9 Female is one of these many people. Wanting to bring the Capitol burning to the ground, Sickle's actions before the Games truly begin put a target on her back from the Careers... and the Gamemakers. Can Sickle win and pull off her secret plan? Part of The Nameless Chronicles.
1. 1: The One with the Cornucopia Bloodbath

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

 **Note:** I lied, looks like this story is starting now! Well, kind of. I figured I'd just put out chapter one as an interest getter and show of what is to come in the future when this story will become a focus. For now, I'll be going back to TDL3 and Burning Snow, but even though they are my focus, enjoy the start of the story of the third protagonist of The Nameless Chronicles. Introducing Sickle, from District Nine! Is it just me, or is District Nine the overall most minor one of them all? Just seems to me like they never get to do anything. But, not this time! For now, its just one chapter, but I hope it'll be enjoyable and get you invested for the future. :)

Also, starting now there will be a new addition to the end of chapter notes section. A list of injuries for the living Tributes. Just to give you all a more concrete visual of the action, and the stuff you cannot see through Sickle's POV.

* * *

The sun is shining. The Mockingjays are singing. It's a perfect day in the forest.

On days like this, kids like all of us in this Arena shouldn't be getting murdered. But the Capitol commands it, and that's what's going to happen. One way or another, by the end of this year's Hunger Games, the Seventy Fourth in fact, all but one of us will be dead. Some will be killed by other Tributes, some will die from environment...some may be torn apart by a Muttation.

Me though... I'm gonna survive. I'm going to win. I'm going to become Victor, and bring the Capitol to its knees. Twenty three to save so many thousands... the thought makes me grimace, but the idea of being murdered by a Career or a Mutt, that makes me feel worse. Like my Mentor told me, just don't think about it and imagine you're freeing them from the harshness of Panem and sending them to the paradise beyond.

My name is Sickle... Sickle Wheatly. I'm fourteen years old, and I'm from District 9. It's the District of Grain, and the District that has not had a victor in many years. Besides Twelve, we have one of the worst records. I work the fields back home, but the pay is crap. After all, orphans don't get given much. My name was in twice when I turned twelve, and it's been going up every year since. Now, I stand on my pedestal as the countdown is about to begin.

I close my eyes and take a breath. I can't feel too awful. I was bound to be here eventually. It was the plan, after all. With no family or friends that could ever be used against me, I would train myself, both mentally and physically as the years go by and volunteer once I turned eighteen. By then, surely I'd be good enough to win the Hunger Games, and commit to my ultimate plan... the plan only a Victor could possibly pull off. The plan was slightly derailed when I was reaped a week or so ago.

I guess making the Capitol burn four years early isn't too big of an inconvenience to anybody, really. It only means I need to be more careful.

A few tributes yelp a little as the countdown begins. For sixty seconds, you'd _think_ we'd be safe from any kind of harm before the Bloodbath begins. I know better though. You can't assume anything in this Arena. Whether it's a forest like this one, or a desert or tundra or anything else... can never feel safe, if you want to live.

 _50 seconds…_

Nobody even looks at me as I stand on the pedestal furthest along to the right in the line. Next to me is the girl from District Eight who plays around with her curls. Beyond her is the boy from Five who takes a deep breath. At the furthest point in the line from me is my District Partner, Miller. We agreed to stay out of each others way in the Arena, to not fight each other and just walk away if we come too close. I'm glad for that plan, he's a nice guy.

 _40 seconds…_

I take a deep breath and ready myself to run for the Silver Horn... the Cornucopia. It stands tall and strong. Within its mouth lie all the things I need to survive, and to fight. How ironic such spoils of life will likely leave several dead within the horn itself. I can't lie, as determined as I am I feel scared.

 _30 seconds…_

I made sure to do as badly as I could in training. Not bad enough it seemed unbelievable, but just bad enough that people won't see me as much of anything. Just another random girl from Nine. Not worth seeking out and going out of one's way to attack. Nobody saw me do much. I acted dumb to the Gamemakers... and I only really trained once the other Tributes were asleep. Amazing how the Training Center is never locked up, even in the dead of the night.

People feel I have no chance of winning, or even surviving the first fifteen minutes. Not like that brute from Two, the one who acts like such a killing machine. His odds, his power, his desire to kill us all.

Where is he now?

 _20 seconds…_

There he is. He's on his pedestal that is almost directly in front of the Cornucopia. He is positioned to run and _more_ than ready to kill. He seems to give threatening glares to the Tributes who are nearest him. He's eighteen, full of muscle, well fed… a perfect specimen, I think one of my Prep Team had idly called him. Careers like him almost always win the Games.

Not this year! I don't think so!

 _15 seconds…_

Readying myself to run, I reach into the pocket of my bottle green jacket. It's a nice outfit I have, supplied for the Games of course. The shade of green is lovely to look at and, in this Arena, it'll help me blend in just a bit better. But what I am more focused on now is the object I hold in my hand. the object that holds my biggest advantage. My trump card.

Every Tribute has a token, something to remind them of home and what they will return to... or more likely, never see again except as their lives flash before their eyes upon death. Sometimes it's a ball, or a small doll or a badge. You know, that kind of thing. Mine however... well, it's a rock. Just a rock. Ok, I guess I'd be lying to you if I said that. On one hand it really is a rock and not outwardly special, unless you count the way it sparkles in the sunlight.

But, this rock will be the thing that starts my journey in this Arena and all that will happen within. I close my eyes for a moment, gathering my bearings for what I am about to do.

 _10 seconds…_

I think of the orphans back home. I never could allow myself to get attached or close to them. Even so, they looked up to me and I did care about them.

 _8 seconds…_

I think of District Nine, and how it's a poor place. I think of the nice people who I am doing it all for. To bring down the Capitol so everybody back home never needs to live another day in fear ever again.

 _6 seconds…_

I think of the Careers and how arrogant and kill obsessed they are. Of how they will want to brutalise the two little twelve year olds in this Arena instead of making it quick, and painless. I think of how the Capitol will cheer and scream in delight over this like wild animals.

My resolve has hardened.

 _4 seconds…_

Holding my rock, I rear back my arm just like I practised.

 _3 seconds…_

I throw the rock as hard and far as I can.

 _2 seconds..._

It comes to a hard stop on the ground inches from the pedestal the brute from Two stands on.

 _1 second…_

Before the countdown has even ended, his mines detonate from the force of the rock. He is killed instantly, his blood and gore splattering around his pedestal and some onto the Tributes nearest him who begun to freak out. Before the Hunger Games have truly began I have just killed the toughest, biggest, baddest Tribute in the Arena. The one who would have caused so much harm and maybe even won. Now his mangled, bloody remains are splattered around. He barely resembles a person anymore.

Holy shit, right? I can hardly believe what I have just done, but there we have it. He's dead.

Everybody is screaming is shock, alarm, horror and all kinds of other emotions. This has never happened before, an attack before the countdown is over. But I do not listen to that.

My heart is pounding, my breath shaky and vomit wanting to escape my mouth. But the countdown has now ended and it's time to make my move!

With a battle-cry I charge off of my pedestal and sprint as fast as I possibly can towards the Cornucopia. A very brief look to my left shows that nobody else has moved yet. They are still stunned, in total shock at what they have just witnessed. The girl from Two looks like her brain broke, unable to comprehend what has happened.

"That's it, waste time," I murmur as I look back in front of me and charge my way up to the horn. "C'mon Sickle, you know the plan for the Games. Straight in, straight out."

And so, I run into the horn. I already have a list in mind of what I need. A big backpack, food, water, a really good weapon. All this, and anything else I can spare a few seconds getting. Thankfully, everything I need is all around me, and nobody is running towards me just yet.

I grab the biggest, fattest backpack I can see. The one that lies furthest in the Cornucopia. Slinging it on I grab two daggers and pocket them. A large water container is next and, after stuffing a roll of bandages into my pocket I grab a large, spiked, bladed whip from on top of one of the crates. I have everything I need for now and so it's time to go.

I dash out of the Cornucopia just as most of the other Tributes are making a huge rush towards the Silver Horn... and me. I can't afford to get caught in this melee, so I skid a little as I loop around the side of the Cornucopia, running onwards past its tail towards the edge of the clearing, and more importantly the dense forest beyond it.

I pant a little as I run. I trained as good as I could, but I am only fourteen and not the most well fed. All the good Capitol food helped me put on some pounds to last me, but I'm still no marathon runner. Thankfully, adrenaline is able to give me the extra push I need to make it through the edge of the clearing and beyond the trees.

"Straight in, straight out," I manage to say in satisfaction. "So far, all according to plan."

Of course, plans mean nothing if anybody is able to catch up to me and there is no doubt in my mind that they saw where I was running to. I have no doubts the boy from Two's partner is going to have me as her number one target. I saw how good with knives she is. She's crazy and relentless, that one. But then again, so am I!

Well then, let the battle of wits begin.

Even as I run further from the Cornucopia every second, the sounds of the bloodbath are not getting quieter. I can't help but feel sick as the screaming and wailing begins to echo through the forest behind me. The boy - Cato, I think his name was - died quickly. I have little doubt at least one or two of those deaths behind me are going to be drawn out. The Careers will be furious, and with me long gone they need an outlet.

Part me of me had hoped the two little kids would die in the Bloodbath so that I would never need to attack them. Now, part of me hopes they bolted and escaped those nutter Careers. Not that I'll know anything until I hear how many cannons go off, and who is shown in the sky tonight.

The forest is getting thicker out here, the trees becoming a bit closer together. Perfect time for me to cover my tracks and lose anybody who might want to pursue me. I've not actually left tracks, I guess the ground isn't right for it, but if somebody was a good tracker they'd find me.

And so, I double back. For a minute I lightly jog the way I came from. Assuming I was going north before, that way is east. That's where I'll go.

Careful to leave no evidence of my trail, I run off deeper into the forest. I can hear the gentle howls of the wind and the chirps of Mockingjays in the branches above. I wonder how many people are watching me on their screens right now, as I wander around. Viewers can tune in to footage of specific tributes if they so choose, so could a sponsor be watching me?

"I can't believe nobody ever thought to exploit the mines like that," I say to myself as I pass a small pond. Way too dirty to drink from. "Seemed simple to me."

Time doesn't pass in the Arena like it does on the outside world, so it could be nightfall sooner than I expect it to be. It was ten in the morning when the Games began, like usual, but for all I know it could be set to afternoon already. Does noon even exist in here? All I know is, I better get on the move and find a place to set up camp.

"Find high ground," I tell myself. "I can see them coming easier, and kill them before they kill me."

Keeping hold of all my precious gear, I sprint onwards. I'll keep going for as long as I can. I have water, and this backpack probably has some food, so right now I can afford to push myself a bit.

If nothing else, I swiped those cookies from the launch room when my Stylist wasn't looking. What are they but supplies found somewhere besides the Cornucopia, right? Maybe I wasn't supposed to take them into the Arena, but you know what I think?

Children are not supposed to be put into the Arena. If the Capitol wants my respect, it can go screw right off.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

I've gone uphill a few times, and now the ground is levelled out. I'd assume I'm at a higher point of the Arena, but with how large it is it's not easy to know for sure. Not even six hours though, and I already hate this place. Actually, to be honest I hate everything about the Capitol and what it makes so it's no surprise.

That said, I did kinda enjoy watching that show, Fiona and Lawrence, at the Tribute Center...

I'm no longer running, and am instead just walking. I've been sipping my water a bit, but I'm being careful with it. I've not opened up my backpack yet, so I don't know if I have got anymore of it. I'm totally lost, but if I'm far away from anybody else then why complain? I'm used to being alone, by choice.

I've not heard any cannons yet, but that's not too much of a factor in my mind right now. It's usually a while before they fire anyway, and with my attack before the countdown was over, well, I guess a delay is expected. I wonder what the Gamemaker's faces were like. The thought makes me giggle a bit.

By now the day is starting to notably go by. Nightfall is not here yet, but it looks like the sun is beginning to get far across the sky of the Arena, so I do not doubt that it'll be dark sooner than later. I might be far out, but I'll need a shelter just in case something happens.

"Ok, let's see what I've got to work with here," I say as I come to a stop at the base of a very large tree. I sigh in content as I sit down, my legs now able to relax a bit. "Aaahhhh, that's nice..."

Taking off my backpack, I set it in front of me. My spiky chain whip, the wrap of bandages and the two knives I grabbed are placed down too. They'll be useful. But the best bounty is what's inside the backpack...plus, the backpack itself is good to carry things with and keep my hands free, no matter what lies within it. Maybe it'd also work as a shield?

Thankfully, one look inside and I know I grabbed a really good one. After all, not only is the backpack a dull greeny-brown that will blend in around here, but just look what's inside!

It's filled with food!

I turn the backpack upside down, dunking the contents down and begin to arrange everything. I work fast, but carefully. Only a minute passes before I have all my gear laid out. I can't help but cheer and fistpump.

I have my bladed chain whip and pair of knives to fight with.

Besides the bandages I grabbed, the backpack had two decent medical kits to add to my supplies in case I get hurt.

There's two fully stocked water containers, and my larger one still has a good deal of water left inside of it.

Five packs of thick meat, three packs of fruit, two mushroom sandwhiches and six energy bars. This, and a wrapped loaf of fine, white bread.

A length of rope.

A box of ten matches.

I feel pretty pleased as I pack it all away once more. With such a haul, I should be fine to survive for a few days before I go on the offensive. Or, until I cross paths with somebody else. Miller, I'd let go once or twice. The rest…

Just remember Sickle, it's twenty three for the sake of many thousands.

I yelp, looking straight up as a loud booming noise makes the Mockingjays grow quiet, or fly away. It was a cannon. Probably for the brute from Two, the first to die. How many will I hear? How many remain to... play against?

The cannons fire slowly, but in a steady rhythm. The entire forest is deadly quiet now as the cannons fire. Even the Mockingjays are quiet, as though afraid of what the noise means. Do they have the capacity to know? I can't say I'm sure either way…

Eventually, the last cannon fires and everything is silent. A moment later the natural noises of the forest resume once more.

Nine cannons fired.

One was for Cato, but who were the others for? I'll find out tonight, but who can be sure a cannon won't fire before then? I kinda hope one does. The quicker they die, the quicker I can get out of here and start phase two of the plan.

I shake my head, thinking a small prayer for those who fell, and jog onwards. I'll travel for an hour, and set myself up for the night, wherever I end up at.

* * *

 **(Later…)**

* * *

Nightfall has arrived. It's dark, and it won't be very long until the Anthem will begin. I never was much of a fan of being outside at night, but I might as well get used to it. Worse things will have happened by the time I am done in this place. At least I managed to find a good spot to spend the night.

"Damn, these are good cookies," I say as I munch the delicious baked goods I swiped from the launch room. "Mmmmm."

Finishing the cookies, my dessert after one pack of meat, I relax back in the tree. I'd found a really tall tree before the sun had set. It took a bit of effort -and some falling and swear words -but I'm now in the nest of thick branches this tree has that are above the canopy of the forest. I can see just about everything from here. It goes on for miles. More importantly, if anybody did come this way they'd have a really hard time finding me in the dark. Even if they found me, how would they reach me anyway, huh?

"Come on, play the Anthem," I mutter. I really want to see who is dead and who is left. Who I may have to kill at some point.

At least the rope I got has me secured, so I can sleep somewhat easy for this one night. I bet I'll make the daily highlights.

As I take a bite out of the last cookie, savouring it, I hear the familiar tune that I hate oh so very much. Where that song plays, muttered curse words follow. Well, if you're me at least. I just sit quietly as I look up to the night sky.

As the Anthem plays loudly, the Capitol Seal is displayed for a few moments. I feel a desperation to put my middle finger up at it, but the last time a Tribute did that they were mysteriously torn apart beyond recognition by fire breathing badgers the next day, so I resist.

The first face in the sky is the boy from Two or, I should say, Cato. So much killing potential and such a good chance at winning, and I killed him before he could even truly 'play the Games'. I shiver, and not from the coldness of the night.

Remember Sickle, he'd have killed you and enjoyed it if he got the chance to.

The next face I see is the boy from Three. That means the rest of the Careers have all survived, and they'll be hunting me down soon. This boy seemed smart, and a little ruthless. I feel sort of glad I won't have to face-off against him.

Next in the sky is the girl from Three. That's one District out already. Unlike me, she'd not tried to get poor odds to avoid being seen as one to target. I didn't expect her to last long, but with how sad she seemed, well, I can only hope it was quick and merciful.

Next up is the boy from Five. He seemed really smart... just another person of worth the Capitol has taken away and wasted all potential of.

Now I see the face of the boy from Six. Cato had threatened to kill him. Well, at least this boy outlived him. I wonder who kill him, if not Cato?

The face of the boy from Seven is next up. He was a sly one, I thought. And now he's dead, just like that. With every face I get closer to my goal, but... this is wrong. Not that I can claim to be much superior, after killing somebody and in record time, too.

Another District gone. It's the girl from Seven next. Like every Tribute but Miller, I never spoke to her... but she seemed smart, and decently skilled. Like she had something to fight for. Whatever it was, she's dead too.

The second to last face I see staring lifelessly at me from above is the girl from Eight. She seemed goofy and fun... not things that help you stay alive in the Arena. Of course, outside the Games I'd probably enjoy her company, not that I'd admit to it just in case, but in here there's only one Victor. Not gonna be her, though maybe she died as she lived - smiling.

And now, I see the final face in the sky. It's that girl from Twelve... the Girl on Fire. Katniss. Her fire got extinguished fast I guess. Broken love, a crushed underdog and, sadly, I can't say I'm surprised. That's the way it'll always be until the day the Capitol burns.

With all nine dead Tributes shown, the Anthem comes to a grand finale for a moment before everything goes dark and all is quiet. Well, besides the hooting of an owl from somewhere nearby at least.

"Nine dead kids," I mutter. "Happy Hunger Games, whoop-de-doo..."

I lay back, the rope securing me, and I try to settle down. It's gonna be a long night, I bet. Tomorrow it's gonna be just as hard. After all, on day one it's about getting supplies, or fleeing. But on day two and beyond the hunting begins and the Gamemakers will start to influence things.

"Brrrr, pretty chilly," I say as I try to get comfy.

It's not a few moments after I say this that I hear something... it's like a sonar, or some kind of soft beeping. Looking up, I see a parachute is heading towards me. As it gets close, the 9 on it confirms it's for me. I open it up, and inside it is a blanket.

"Thanks for the boon," I say, giving a thumbs up. "Don't go sponsoring the others. I kinda need to kill them, and not have them kill me, you see."

I'm sure the idiots in the Capitol love that. Not that I can call them idiots, sadly. Well, no yet anyway, heheh. Setting aside the parachute, I put the blanket over me and lay back, trying to get some rest.

Day one is over, and I've made myself impossible to forget. Already, a Sponsor has been given to me.

People are really gonna want to kill me after what I've done. That girl from Two looks bonkers so, well, hopefully she broke her hands and can't use any knives on me. Guess I'll just sleep, and see what the next day brings. Just fourteen left to die, and then it's time…

Come what may. I can deal with it.

* * *

 **END OF DAY 1…**

* * *

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES**

 **Marvel (District 1 Male)**

 **Glimmer (District 1 Female)**

 **Clove (District 2 Female)**

 **Urchin (District 4 Male)**

 **Marina (District 4 Female)**

 **Cinder (District 5 Female)**

 **Tamora (District 6 Female)**

 **Callico (District 8 Male)**

 **Miller (District 9 Male)**

 **Sickle (District 9 Female)**

 **Rammy (District 10 Male)**

 **Sable (District 10 Female)**

 **Thresh (District 11 Male)**

 **Rue (District 11 Female)**

 **Peeta (District 12 Male)**

* * *

 **THE FALLEN**

16th- **Katniss (District 12 Female)-** Two knives thrown into her back by Clove.

17th- **Weldar (District 3 Male)-** Strangled and asphyxiated by Tamora.

18th- **Jason (District 6 Male)-** Stabbed with a Kukri and then stabbed in the gut by a spear, by Marvel.

19th- **Wood (District 7 Male)-** Throat slashed with a large cleaver by Glimmer.

20th- **Nettle (District 7 Female)-** Stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

21st- **Gadget (District 3 Female)-** Struck in the skull with an axe by Marina.

22nd- **Lacey (District 8 Female)-** Impaled with a spear by Marvel.

23rd- **Sparky (District 5 Male)-** Knife thrown between the eyes by Clove.

24th- **Cato (District 2 Male)-** Mines detonated by Sickle before the countdown was over.

* * *

 **TRIBUTE NOTES**

As usual, no real notes to give on those that fell in the bloodbath. But, with Sickle's action before the countdown ended and how it's the main point of divergence...well, everything changed and thus it's a totally different outcome that is more than just listing 'what changes if this one Tribute had ran or not done something'. Take away Cato, have everybody be in a shocked frenzy from what has happened and then add the fact they were stationary for a few precious seconds...the result is everything totally changing around. A very different tale than what we know lies ahead. Stay tuned!


	2. 2: The One where Trees Fall

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

 **Note:** Back at last! It's been some time, but the time has come to continue the tale of Sickle, third lead of The Nameless Chronicles. The time that has passed has given me time to change some things up, like adding cool stuff and removing things that would not have worked. Hopefully it'll all be worth the wait! Oh, and like with Burning Snow, the injury list has been removed. It simply lowers the suspense factor too much.

* * *

I yawn as I wake up, sitting up and stretching out. It takes me a moment to realise I'm in a tree and it's dawn. Even now, with Reaping Day seeming so long ago, it's still taking some getting used to that District Nine is far away, and just a memory. I think I most miss the wind blowing through the grain fields. I always did enjoy the gentle howl of the wind on a summer afternoon.

For a while, I just sit here and relax. I'm in no hurry to move as I'm high out of reach of any other Tribute, and even if one of them were nearby and had a bow and arrow they'd first need to see me to be able to shoot at me. It's nice, sitting here and watching the clouds roll by. You know, back in Nine we – that is, the other orphans and I – like to play a game when were out in the fields. We watch the clouds and talk about what they look like to us, be it bread, fruit or maybe a bike. I remember one little girl said a cloud looks like a free Panem.

Maybe I can make that cloud come true, just for her. But, that'll involve me not getting killed. I can't help but feel really uneasy, thinking about the bloodbath. I didn't see anybody die… except Cato, but… every year, once the dust settles, the cameras focus on each corpse for a few moments. Sometimes, they're staring at the camera. I can't help but wonder what those nine who died were like in their final seconds, and then their first minutes of being dead.

Better not think about it. In fact, maybe getting on the move will take my mind off it. Being chased by a mutt, or something. Yeah, not much thinking involved there.

"Ok, I got up easily enough… how hard could going down be?" I say, unclipping the rope that kept me secure during the night. "I'm not that big, should be easy enough."

Packing my gear into my backpack, I soon start to make my descent to the ground. It's slow going, but I'd rather not risk being fast and then falling. I'm not sure if this is true, but some say that over one hundred Tributes have died due to breaking their necks after falling from a tree.

"Careful, careful," I mutter, holding the tree trunk tightly and edging my way down. "Nice and slow, just like a careful grain harvest."

I spoke too soon, as a branch snaps suddenly and I begin to all. I'm not falling for more than a second before I hit the ground. Not high enough to cause any real injuries… but still pretty damn painful! I've taken harder hits than this though, and I get back up.

"...Well, that saved me some time," I remark. Who knows, maybe if I make a funny quip here and there Sponsors will like me more.

More than they already do, as the blanket I have in my backpack proves.

But now that I'm on the ground, I'm in stabbing range of any Tribute who might find me. And archery range. And axing range… and spearing range… actually, let's just call it killing range. Time to get moving. But which direction?

"Ok, I came from that way, and that's where the Cornucopia is. So I'll go… this-a-way," I decide, spinning my hand a little and pointing forwards in a different direction.

I'm quickly on the move, bladed whip in hand. Thing is though, by now most of the others are surely on the move as well. And, if I cross paths with them… well, I have my weapon in hand for a reason.

Kill twenty three, save many, many thousands. I just need to tell myself that until it sticks.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

I've been walking for a while and nothing has happened. I guess it's not such a bad thing, except that nobody else has had anything happen to them either. No cannons have fired, and that can only mean it won't be long before the viewers get bored… well, the Capitol viewers anyway. I'm eyeing every bush and tree with caution just in case something gets sprung onto me. Attacking before the countdown ended might have angered a Gamemaker or two.

"WHOA!" I yell, quickly cartwheeling to the side as a tree starts to fall.

I'm out of range long before it hits the ground with a very hard thud. But, that could've crushed me to death in an instant. No way was that anything but Gamemaker influence… I better move, now!

I'm quickly running through the forest, the wind in my hair. The wind is picking up as I run along, most likely to 'set the scene'. The scene of my death. Yeah, I'll pass on that one, thanks.

I'm keeping my gaze on the ground for shadows. No matter how quietly a tree may fall, it will always cast a shadow. Seeing a shadow cast over me I jump to the side and run in a new direction, a thud soon echoing behind me. It's like the forest is falling apart… I guess my little stunt with the mines and stealing cookies from the launch room might have angered the Gamemakers more than I thought.

Fancy that, them sticking me in here has angered me more than they might have thought as well.

A large tree is falling down, the shadow looming over me. It's left or right, and the right looks more dangerous.

"Right is right!" I yell, dodging the tree and running to the right.

Usually, traps like this are done to send Tributes into danger if they take the expected path. I can only assume something nasty awaited me to the left. To the right there are more dangerous trees falling down, bur at least once I get out of range it should be safer. I'm getting tired already though. Aaahhh, my gut feels tight and sore.

Trees are falling, many massive thuds echoing through the woods. By now somebody has probably heard this noise from miles away… but, who would seek out danger like this? Not somebody who desires to live, and I don't think any of the others are suicidal.

I hate to say it though, but if one of them did kill themselves it'd bring me a step closer to winning.

"Crap!" I yell, a tree landing just a few feet beside me. "Not good!"

Surely they will run out of trees eventually, right? They could regrow more in a minute, of course, but they never seem to do that when Tributes are around. Not usually. I can see an area of ahead lacking any trees. In fact, it looks like a steep kill downwards. Perfect!

"I'm not ending up like Cato!" I say, trying to sound fierce. "I'm not a corpse, I'm The Wolf Girl!"

I can't help but feel embarrassed I just said that. Still, Katniss' name of the 'Girl on Fire' got her a lot of attention. Maybe having my own nickname from the viewers would help me out when I need it?

A huge tree is falling down. I'm past it before it can crush me, and already running down the steep hill. A quick glance back makes me pale. The damn tree is rolling after me!

"This is crazy!" I exclaim, putting my last energy into sprinting fast. "Come on, the land mine trick wasn't _that_ big of deal was it!?"

Of course, it probably was. But if I'd not done it, where would I be? If not dead, then doomed to eventually die from Cato's sword pierced through my fourteen year old guts. I saw him in the Training Center… he's honestly scary with a sword, and a short Outer District girl like me wouldn't stand much hope one on one against a Brute like him. Plus, when you think about it… not my fault that the mines were made to be so sensitive, right? Heheheh.

The rolling tree is right on my heels, but I know I can make it. I have to! Just a few moments of running more and I'll pass two large, thick trees. Perfect to stop the large tree in its path.

"Whoa!" I yell, tripping on a root and flying forwards.

After the most terrifying second of my life I realise I have landed beyond the trees. A moment later the rolling tree smacks into them, and comes to a stop. All is quiet for a few moments.

The quiet ends once I start laughing. I don't even know why I am laughing, but for a while I just laugh and laugh. Maybe it's the relief of not being crushed to death filling me up?

"Woo," I say tiredly as I sit up. "That was fun. A good work out."

Wearily and a little dazed I approach the stationary tree and sit on it. By now, it seems the trap has been stopped. I'd say I've earned a break. I'm soon eating some of the meat from one of the packs, and both the mushrooms sandwiches. When you're hungry and tired enough any food becomes a luxury. And the water, so good. So good!

"That's enough," I say, forcing myself to stop drinking the water. If it runs out, I'll be in trouble. "Hmm… where do I go now?"

It's a no-brainer really. Behind me are the fallen trees, and there's a chance somebody might be heading there right now. Maybe even the Career Pack.

"Move, move, move," I say as I put my stuff away and keep walking. "Don't want to see those Careers."

Even with Cato dead the Careers are still dangerous. They'll want to kill me most of all for what I did, and despite my good supplies… they've no doubt gotten the lions share by now, including the best weapons. At the start of the Games they have a serious upper hand. I'd only dare go after them as time goes by and they get hurt, and their supplies start to run out. That's the thing with Careers, they're almost unbeatable killing machines at the start, but eventually they lose the advantage they once held. Until then, it's time for the waiting game.

I can't help but wonder something as I walk through the windy forest. With Cato dead, would they have allowed anybody else into the pack to keep the numbers? It does happen, them letting other Tributes in.

And then those Tributes getting their throats cut when they're not useful anymore.

* * *

 **(Not much later…)**

* * *

On one hand, the lack of any falling trees is a good thing. No chance of getting crushed to death right now.

On the other hand, if it's not one thing then it's something else. In this case, the 'something' is that I seem to have found a sort of woodland swamp. Lots of filthy water, nasty mud, overgrown plants… and the whole place smells like crap. The wind only makes the smell spread faster. I gag, wafting my hand around me a little.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna drink any of that water," I say. "No iodine can make it good. Plus, I bet there are leeches in there."

I shudder at the thought of leeches. Maybe it's a dumb thing to feel scared of, given the fact I'm in the Hunger Games and much worse things are probably gonna be unleashed later, but I can't stand those horrible creatures. So nasty.

I wander alone through the swamp for a while. Nothing much is here, really. I have supplies to keep me going, and even if I was trying to find something to live off of there wouldn't be anything around here I could use. The whole place is pretty dead and foul.

"...It's a swamp," I say for the cameras. "Not really much I can think of doing here, or talking about. We don't get swamps in Nine, except that area where the, _urrrghhh_ , leeches hang out."

I hear a sonar beep. A sponsor, yes! Is making a sour face about leeches something that gets sponsors? The Capitol citizens must be a lot easier to charm than I already thought. Not that I mind. Heheheh!

"I'm just getting _swamped_ by generosity," I can't help but quip as I open the parachute up, stopping the beeping.

Hey, what's this? It's a small gadget of some kind… small enough to hold in my hand, a fine deep blue colour and two metal prongs at the front. A trigger too. I pull the trigger and the prongs crackle. I'm startled for a moment, before it becomes clear what this is. A tazer. I think they use these on the Livestock in Ten, though this one is a lot smaller. Nodding, I slip it into my pocket for safe keeping.

I toss the parachute into the swamp water, after taking a note out from it. Wonder what it says?

- _RUN!_

 _Laurel_ -

Run? ...Run! My Mentor is telling me to run, so I better listen. Good thing I hadn't unpacked anything.

I've only made it a few steps before sounds of screaming and yelling, and even a bit of laughing are getting close. It sounds like multiple people are coming, and I'm just one girl. I sprint over to a rather thick patch of bushes and jump in, staying completely still. I breath slowly, quiet as possible. I'm glad to be from Nine… after all, our typical bottle green Arena clothes are exactly the same colour as these bushes. I should blend in fine.

A few moments pass by with the sounds getting very close, not that I recognize the voices. Could be anybody.

My heart sinks a little as the small boy from District Four runs into the swamp and tries to flee into the water. Maybe he feels confident in his swimming skill, being from Four… or maybe he'd rather risk whatever is in the water over whatever was behind him.

He screams in pain as something flies through the air and strikes him in the back of one of his legs, making him fall. He can only scramble for a few moments before his pursuers enter the swamp.

The Careers. I should've known. I don't want to watch this, but if I move then they'll hear me. Guess I've got an unwanted front seat to the carnage. I can't save him, not without getting myself killed.

The girl from Two, Clove, yanks her knife out of him casually. The boy screams from this as the pair from One close in as well… Marvel and Glimmer, I think. Yeah, them. Clove seems a little more unhinged than she was back in the Training Center though. Something in her eyes?

It looks like the Careers have let more people into their pack though. I guess I was right to think they would, with Cato currently in pieces. I can see the girl from Six walking up, a blowgun in hand and probably several darts in the bag clipped to her belt. Bringing up the rear is the girl from Four, a serrated sword in hand. She looks very uneasy. Can't say I blame her. After all, it's her District Partner about to die.

I can't help but think I'd feel just as ill if I saw Miller die right in front of me. I'm not attached, but… he's a good guy.

"So, what should we do with him?" Clove says, chuckling "Come on, ideas, ideas!"

"Kill him?" Glimmer suggests. "Just a little ankle biter, not really worth much attention. I'd rather hunt down that girl who killed Cato."

I am that girl, of course. I try to keep quiet. If they hear me, I'm done for.

"Spear through the face, or gut? I can go for either," Marvel says, shrugging. "I just wanna make it Marvellous! Uh-huh, uh-huh!"

I can't help but groan and look away as he does that… thing he does with the spear. It's just embarrassing.

"Please, _please_! Don't kill me!" the boy begs. "I could be a good asset to you guys, really! I can fish, I'm fast… I scored an eight! That's… that's more than her, right?"

"Screw you," the girl from Six says, looking sour. "Could I shoot a dart at him? I don't see any reason to draw this one out."

"Yeah, I guess Tamora has a point, not much fun to had with this guy. He'd die before it'd get good anyway," Clove says with a shrug, taking out a knife. "Although..."

Clove taps her chin with the flat of the blade for a moment, before smirking a bit. She then shoves the girl from Four forwards, and holds a knife to the back of her neck. I can see that Marvel and Glimmer look amused by this while Tamora takes a step back, still looking sour. Maybe she realises Clove is nuts?

"You killed that Three girl pretty easily back in the Bloodbath. That's why we let you in, because you impressed us," Clove says, a leer on her face. "If you'd like to stay in the pack, and not be sent running with a few seconds of a head start, why not kill this kid? That other girl was thirteen, so somebody aged twelve won't be a problem, right?"

The boy looks pale as a white winter. He knows his life is over. The Girl from Four is now shaking a little too as she looks at her small District Partner, sword in hand.

"Marina, please!" the boy begs.

The Girl from Four, or rather Marina, shakes a little. She looks sick. A knife held behind her, and the last person she wanted to murder on the ground in front of her. And here's me in a bush, watching it happen. Sweat drips down my face… why can't I look away?

"...I'm sorry Urchin, _I'm sorry_ ," Marina manages to say, her voice unsteady and tears in her eyes.

Closing her eyes she raises the sword. Urchin has only a second to scream before the sword comes down and he goes silent.

"Good job. I knew you had it in you," Clove says, patting Marina on the back. "Nice one. He was pathetic."

Marina doesn't reply. Instead, she runs for the bushes, thankfully not my bushes, and pukes hard. She's gasping and wheezing, no doubt full of grief for what she has done. I wonder though… did she feel that way for the Three girl? Not that I can judge, as I didn't feel as traumatised as I expected when I killed Cato.

"That's ten down. Almost halfway there!" Clove cheers, tossing a knife up and catching it. "Ok, I'm bored now, let's kill somebody else."

Marvel approaches Urchin's corpse, kicking lightly.

"Uh, he's not dead. No cannon," Marvel states, twirling his spear as he speaks. "Probably passed out from shock and pain, or maybe blood loss. Four, come back and do it right!"

"Oh screw her, I'll do it," Clove says, rolling her eyes. "It's like murder is hard for you people or something. Honestly."

Clove raises her knife and casually stabs it in Urchin's chest a few times, blood being splattered around. The forest goes a little quiet as the cannon fires.

Clove looks eerily serene as he gets back up, using a cloth to wipe the knife clean.

"So, where to next?" she asks.

"I think we're getting close to the edge," Glimmer says, looking up for a moment. "We should go back. Besides, this swamp stinks. Like, ew! I volunteered for blood and glory, not the smell of shit."

"Let's go back to the Cornucopia then," Tamora says. "Grab whatever the kid has, and let's move."

Glimmer takes what Urchin had – a pair of energy bars and a knife – and the pack look ready to leave, Marina shaking on the spot from what she's done. She'll have to die one way or the other, but I feel bad for her.

"Hey, guys. Guys! Look," Marvels says, pointing to the water. "Parachute. It's got a number nine on it."

Nuts! Now they know I've been here! No way are they gonna leave now… and I can't really move right now, unless I want to end up like Urchin. As it turns out, I don't. Maybe they'll think it was Miller who came through here? He didn't do anything to make them furious, right? Though with Miller, you never know.

"It's that Nine girl," Clove yells, her face a little red. Strange how she's only a year older than me, and looks like a demon of some sort. "She's come through here. Her partner's back at the Cornucopia guarding our stuff, so she's here. Spread out! But don't kill her, I want to be the one to cut her up."

I stay still. Clove talks big game and I have no doubt she would follow up on every threat… thing is though, if she cannot find me then those are really just words. About the only thing that can't hurt me. I'll just wait her out, and flee once I get the chance to. Already, those Careers are spreading out in other directions.

"Wait, Miller? Miller is their guard?" I whisper. So, my crafty District Partner has got himself into the pack and secured a bit of protection… I can't help but feel impressed.

Well, impressed and a bit huffy. That's gonna make things harder, him being with my main opposition. Though in the end, it's the same thing. Twenty three to save many thousands, don't forget that Sickle.

"Better not overthink," I tell myself.

It's true. Like I said earlier, sometimes the Careers let people from other Districts join them. Four is the most likely to get this perk, but I'm surprised they went for Tributes from Six and Nine. I mean, that Eight boy had odds just as good as Cato. Then again, maybe that's why they didn't let him in… he could be too powerful.

"Looks like they're gone," I say with a firm nod. "Time to get the hell out of here."

I quickly jump out of the bushes, ready to run far away. Right at that moment an arrow sails past me, and into a tree nearby. Good thing Glimmer isn't as good a shot as Katniss was said to have been.

"Found her!" Glimmer calls. "C'mon guys!"

"You better run Nine, I know the most painful parts of the body to cut that won't kill you quickly!" Clove calls.

I'm paling in fear at the thought, but fear makes me fast. Quickly, I'm sprinting away into the forest, weaving between the trees. No way is an arrow gonna be shot through my throat today.

But it'll be much worse than that if I get caught. Even if I could land a hit, it's five on one. Too much for anybody. But maybe I could lure them into a trap? Think Sickle, are there any traps nearby? Nope, none that I know of.

"I could always trigger one," I muse.

If I insult the Gamemakers, they'd activate something. I'd just need to evade it and get those five caught in the blast radius of whatever it was. ...No, not a good idea. Not after the falling trees from earlier.

"Come back here!" Marvel yells, laughing. He sounds amused. "We're gonna get you!"

"Maybe they'll sponsor us a sickle to carve her with? I think Sickle is her name anyway," I hear Gimmer say.

The chase goes on. I can hear them, always behind me, but I can't quite make out where they are exactly. Every time I risk a look back something obscures them from my sight. I'm quickly getting tired though, and I can only hope they are too. If I had been able to wait until I was eighteen to be in the Hunger Games I'd be doing a lot better than this.

I scream a little as something hits into my arm. Yanking it out I see it's a dart. Tamora must be a good shot, and nearby, to hit me with it.

"She'll be sleeping soon!" I hear Tamora say.

Sleep formula? Better than poison I guess. But I'm already feeling weary, and the chase is nowhere near over. No! Just a bit further! But no, the feeling in my legs, arms and body is starting to get numb. I feel sleepy…

I see the forest trail ahead, leading deeper than I already am. Or maybe back to the start. Whatever, they'd catch me that way. But I see a drop to the left… maybe to a ditch or something? This is gonna _really_ hurt, but it's my only hope. Hope that they won't see me jump off.

Before I lose awareness of the world, I fling myself off the edge. For a moment I feel free, nothing to hold me back from flight.

I then smack into the ditch below, pain surging through my like fire. In the lasts econds before everything goes dark I hear the Careers run by above and start to get distant…

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

When my eyes open, I see that it's dark. Or, sunset? Hard to tell because the canopy of the forest is blocking my view of the sky. But, the fact I can see anything shows that I'm still alive. The odds were in my favour... I wasn't found. Though, I sure feel sore all over. Bruises, maybe a broke rib. Simply put, this bloody hurts.

Wait, where am I? This doesn't look like the place I fell. Not that I had much time to see the 'impact site' anyway, but as I wearily look around I can see that the cliff I jumped from is missing. So, somebody must have moved me while I was knocked out. It's the only explanation. Aw crap, maybe I'm not as safe as I thought I was.

I try to get up, my head spinning, but a moment later I feel somebody pushing me back down. The weird thing is how gentle they seem to be, and whoever they are they seem to be bigger than me. I'd expect rougher treatment.

"No, you need to lie down," the voice gently tells me. "You'll feel better if you rest for a bit. Don't worry, you're safe for now. Those Careers are long gone."

My vision is starting to come into better focus. I see a girl is looking over me, and I appear to be laying on a makeshift bed of leaves. A bandage has been applied to what must be a cut on my arm. I've seen this girl before… ok, dumb wording as I have seen everybody in the Arena before at training, but I remember how this girl seemed so gentle and sweet in the Training Center. Did she ever pick up a weapon at all? Her charcoal grey outfit tells me she's the Girl from Ten. What was her name though? Began with an S…

"Don't worry, I'm unarmed," she says. "I… can't kill. I won't. I know, sounds pretty dumb, but I just can't. But I can heal, and I think I fixed you up pretty well. How are you feeling?"

"Like I fell off a cliff and landed in a ditch chest first," I reply, a hand on my head. "Thanks. Thanks..."

"Not a problem," the girl says. Her smile seems warm, and almost motherly. "Good thing I found you when I did. I think those five came back that way later. That's what Rammy said when he went to hunt. Hunt for food, that is."

"Rammy?" I ask. So, this girl isn't alone. I feel I should know who Rammy is…

"My District Partner, and also my..." the girl trails off, looking sad for a moment. "...We're from District Ten, him and I. I'm Sable."

"Well, nice to meet you Sable," I say, moving so I am on my side. "How long was I out?"

"I don't know when you fell, exactly, but we found you at mid-afternoon and now it's Sunset. So, maybe six or seven hours?" Sable guesses. "...Oh, your gear is over there. I didn't touch anything. Well, except the bandages in your pocket which you needed. Oh mercy me, this is awkward… food will be here soon, if you'd like something?"

Slowly, I nod my head. A painful fall would make anybody hungry I guess.

I lie here, trying to relax a little as Sable starts to work on a fire. I'd object to this, but the thought of being warm is too much to argue with. Plus, if nobody else but her District Partner is nearby then maybe it won't matter? I could get up and flee if I need to.

"Somebody might see the fire," I say after a while.

"Don't worry, there's a tarp set above. It'll catch any smoke, and the thick bushes that surround us will keep anybody from seeing the flames," Sable assures me. "I'm not a fighter, but I still know a bunch of things. We'll be ok for now."

I guess that's good enough for me, and so I flop back down. I can't help but feel wary… is Sable really doing this out of the kindness of her heart? Or is it to take me totally off guard, or to make me feel attached to her so come the time I can't kill her? I don't see any weapons near her, but I'm feeling distrustful. But that's what the Capitol wants isn't it? For us to distrust each other and keep up the killing.

Whether Sable is truly being nice or not, and I'd hope she is, it won't change the fact only one of us will be alive in the end.

"Why did you help me?" I eventually ask.

"...Why wouldn't I?" Sable replies. "I know, I know, it's The Hunger Games. But it's a no rules game, isn't it? That means here is no exact rule that says I am required to kill anybody. Oh!"

Sable snaps her fingers, seeming to remember something. She picks something up from near her and passes it to me. It's a box of cookies.

"Somebody out there must like you," Sable says, smiling. "I've not gotten any parachutes yet. Not that I really expected to, being a pacifist."

Sable's right. What Sponsor would give anything to a Tribute who refuses to kill? Every Victor there has ever been has killed at least one person directly. I don't see how a pacifist could ever hope to win… after all, if it was them versus a bloodthirsty Career in the end what would they do? I'd guess die. It's futile.

So why am I already starting to feel a little attached? Maybe just the fact Sable is being nice, and motherly which relates to me not having a mother… and suddenly, this is getting awkward.

"Want a cookie?" I say, trying to look to the side and remain guarded.

"No hanks, it's your gift," Sable says. "Besides, I have something even better. Well, someone really."

Sable looks dreamy for a few moments, before stammering and turning back to the fire. I may have utterly zero experience in the area but I think she might be talking about a boy from back home. Or a girl? Not my business either way, and the more I think about it the harder it's gonna be to win this thing.

So why do I keep thinking about it?!

"I'm back," a voice calls, one more mature and deep sounding.

"Everything ok?" Sable asks. "Need me to look over anything?"

"I'm alright, don't you worry about me," assures a boy as he approaches us. His grey outfit shows me he's with Sable. The deer he's dragging along shows me he's quite the hunter.

The pair from Ten embrace for a moment, before getting to work on the deer. Soon enough the boy, Rammy I assume, notices me.

"So, you're awake," he says.

"I am," I confirm. "...Thanks, for helping me. Those Careers are nuts."

"Aye, they are," Rammy agrees, frowning. "I saw five of them go by. Well three really and to add-ons. You'd be nuts to work with them. Still, you're pretty nuts yourself to blow one of them to bits before the countdown was even over."

Rammy then smirks, showing approval.

"Nice idea," he says with a grin. "Last year a friend of mine got killed by the Two boy that won. I'm happy there won't be a repeat of that."

"Well, no problem," I say. "I just felt like keeping the odds out of his favour."

As the deer is prepared, I can see that Sable looks uncomfortable. I wonder how she, a pacifist, feels to be so near me. After all, I didn't just perform the first kill of the games but also the earliest ever kill that has ever happened, and not been caused by suicide.

Soon enough we're sitting quietly, eating the deer. It's so good, better than anything I've ever had… well, besides that fudge ice cream in the Capitol. Part of wants to thanks the Tens for being nice, but part of me wants to stay aloof and distant, to make it easier later on. I manage to stay quiet. As I eat the meat, I can see Rammy eyeing me every now and then.

He doesn't trust me.

That's fine though, as I don't truly trust him either.

"Thankful as we are you took down Cato, there's only one Victor," Rammy tells me, his eyes flickering to Sable for a moment. "Once you're back on your feet, you should move on."

"But Rammy, there is strength in numbers," Sable says. "Even if one of those numbers is a healer, not a fighter."

"We can only trust each other," Rammy replies, looking tired. "I think Sickle knows what'd happen if it came down to all three of us."

An axe to my brain, and that's if I am lucky.

"Yeah, I do," I reply. "You guys are older and stronger than me. I'd be clobbered. I'll get on the move soon."

"Good," Rammy says. "...I would help, but it's the Arena we're in and only one of us is gonna get out of this place. Sable."

I pause. Rammy intends to die for Sable? To give up his own life for a girl who came here with him? Wait a second… aw _crap_ , now I feel emotional.

"...You guys are a couple, aren't you?" I say, grimly. "You didn't mention that in your interviews."

"It's our own business. Also, our shitty luck." Rammy mutters. "I was on my last year. Sable didn't have any Tessarae… it was gonna be great. Now this. I'm ready to die for Sable the moment I have to, but I'm gonna prevent that moment for as long as I can. Anybody attacks us, it's the last thing they do."

Sable lays her head on Rammy's shoulder, her hand upon his. I can tell she's afraid, and it seems she might be less scared for herself and more for Rammy. I guess it makes sense, if he truly intends to die for her. I'm having a hard time not feeling upset as I look at the loving, yet doomed couple. This is why I never tried to date… well, that and I don't understand boys. They're strange.

"Let's not think about fighting, yet. There's no danger right now, so we should make the most of our time," Sable says, her tone soothing. "If we don't have much, I'd rather spend it making as many happy memories as possible."

"...I would too," Rammy agrees, once again giving me a look.

"I'm unarmed," I say flatly. "Besides, you'd butcher me if I did try to do anything. After you guys kept me alive though, I'm not sure I could do anything."

"We appreciate that," Sable says. "We don't need to be enemies in this."

"What she said," Rammy agrees. "But we can't really be friends either."

Sable lays against Rammy as they relax by the fire. It's peaceful, being like this. Sure, I'm the third wheel, but this moment of relief is nice. My chest already feels less like it's on fire with agony. I ay on my back, looking up at the sky.

"...Sable, if you did make the 'finale' and Rammy was not there, you would need to fight," I say, nervous. "It's unlikely you'd get out any other way."

"There's always a choice. A choice to not kill," Sable says, firmly. "When all is said and done, all we've got are our choices and our fear of making them. Well… this is my choice. To be peaceful."

Rammy holds Sable close. I think he's proud of her, loving her for her morales that don't seem to be easily broken. But if I were him, I'd feel uneasy. It's harder to keep somebody alive if they cannot, or will not, fight for themselves. But now that I think about it, maybe Sable wouldn't have to.

As I get up and stretch out, getting my backpack of supplies back on I pass the box of cookies to Rammy and Sable.

"Just so we're even," I say as I start to leave. "Also, maybe you wouldn't have to kill anybody Sable. Remember Haymitch from the fiftieth Games? I saw the tape of them once… he used the forcefield at the edge of the Arena to deflect the axe of a Career. Not so much murder as it was technically the Career committing suicide. That's your best chance to stay the person you are."

"...Thanks for the tip," Sable says, smiling gently.

"Won't the Gamemakers be a bit annoyed at you for saying such things?" Rammy says, looking cautious, a hand reaching for his axe as he glances around.

I look at the pair from Ten for a moment.

"I sure hope so, because I'm annoyed that they put me in this Arena in the first place," I say confidently, heading off in the late evening. "May the odds be ever in your favour."

* * *

 **(Time passes...)**

* * *

I'm limping a bit as I walk. I think I underestimated just how much that fall would hurt me, even after Sable fixed me up a bit. Better hurt than dead though. True to Sable's word none of my supplies were touched. It's all there.

"I should've left quicker than I did. Now I feel attached," I say, bopping myself a little. "Stupid Sickle. You're a lone wolf, The Wolf Girl, remember that."

I shake my head as I carefully cross a log over a river. I'm honestly surprised that the log didn't break. Still, looks like that's a decent water supply I've just found. Maybe I should just stop here for the night. I think it looks good to drink, at the speed it's flowing, but I'd feel better if I had some iodine. At least right now I have a good amount left.

"Well, time to eat," I say, flopping down to the ground.

Good thing I did, as a fish with sharp teeth jumped out of the river and flew through where my head was a few seconds ago. I stab the creature with one of my daggers without having to think. I just do it.

"I said _eat_ , not _be eaten_ ," I say dryly. "Thanks for the fish though."

Better not get too close to the water. I'm many things, but fish food isn't one of them. Now, which pack of meat to eat first? Maybe the beef?

I freeze as I hear a scream from somewhere in the dark. A moment later, I hear a cannon fire. Another step closer, I guess.

"...Shit! If I can hear the scream, that must mean it wasn't far away," I mutter, fear starting to overtake me. "Where was that from? Who did the deed?"

I hear the sound of a hovercraft. There it is… can't be more than a few hundred feet that way. The killer is near.

When I hear the sounds of chattering and laughing I'm quickly racing up the nearest tree, a cold sweat on my face. It's not easy to climb with a pain in my chest – maybe a broken rib – and a sore feeling in my arms and legs. But, I'm up a tree and more or less out of sight. I'm able to take a breather for a few seconds before, as I expected, the Career pack enters the area.

This Arena is miles wide in all directions, how do they keep on finding me? Gamemakers driving them towards me, or does the Universe just hate me that much? I mean, I got reaped, so I can see a case for the latter. Not important, so long as they do not notice me. I settle down and start to eat the meat.

I feel uneasy though, wondering who it was they just murdered. Judging by the smirks on Marvel and Clove's faces, and their bloody weapons, they must have had something to do with it. More than something.

"She ran right into us, you see that?" Marvel laughs, fist pumping. "She literally ran onto my spear!"

"Not many brains in that one," Glimmer agrees, amused.

"Sure there were. I cut them out to check," Clove says, looking strangely calm. "The cannon fired when I stabbed her, so that's another point for me. Heheh."

"Whoa, Cato _sure_ is missing out," Tamora adds.

Clove smacks Tamora, though Tamora doesn't make a sound from it.

"Don't talk about him like that. What happened to him… was a tragedy." Clove says icily.

Clove seems to miss Cato a lot. I have no doubts they would kill each other the second they had to, but they must have been really close. Part of me wants to have a closeness like that with somebody, but I can't risk attachment being used against me.

Soon enough the Career Pack has made a fire and are sitting around it, talking. No reason for them to worry about the noise they make. Few predators would. Though, it looks like Marina doesn't have much of anything to say. I can't quite see her face from up here, but she looks like a wreck. Even if she didn't kill Urchin, she struck him with a near lethal blow all the same.

"We should get back to the Cornucopia tomorrow. I need more arrows," Glimmer says.

"Yeah, and I need a new spear head. This one's getting dull," Marvel adds. "Only a few miles away, right?"

"You guys can go back, but I'm staying out here. There might be more meat running around," Clove says. "Nine meat, perhaps."

I can't help but shiver a bit at the tone Clove uses when she talks about me. In fact, all five have me shivering just a little. People are always scarier looking in the dark, and seeing the glow of the fire light up their faces, except not quite… it's haunting.

"I'll go with them," Tamora says.

"Awwww, do you _have_ to?" Marvel groans.

"Show me a bit of respect, I strangled that Three boy," Tamora huffs. "I got Jason off you, didn't I? Yeah, I did. You don't need to be a Career to be tough."

"Yeah, but you need to be taller than fun size," Glimmer scoffs. "Tiny."

Tamora just jerks a thumb to point at Clove.

"I'll still cut you," Clove frowns. "There are thirteen left. Us five, Sickle and the randoms. If we can't kill Sickle yet I want to kill someone. We'll take watching in shifts tonight, Marvel first, and then split up tomorrow. We meet at the Cornucopia mid-afternoon, and cut down anybody we find."

"Can do!" Marvel says, saluting with a laugh.

"Naturally," Glimmer says, smirking. "Next one we find is mine."

"What if the next one is that big guy from Eleven?" Tamora asks. "He's a giant."

" _You'd_ think that," Clove says, smugly.

"Tributes under five feet have won before, don't forget that," Tamora mutters, laying on her side.

The Careers are silent for a while as they eat their supplies. I don't mind this though, as I keep getting unnerved when they talk about murder. It's a necessity, not a sport. By the sounds of things, I may have underestimated Tamora. If she was willing to hinder her District Partner to join the pack and get some protection then maybe she's more of a threat than she seems. I already know she can hit a target with that blowgun.

Bigger issue here though, how am I going to get away? I can't leave until they're either gone or all sleeping. Guess I'm stuck here for the night. Darn it, why couldn't they just keep on going? They just _had_ to choose to camp out under the exact tree I am hiding in. One tree out of thousands.

May the odds be in my favour, indeed.

" _Somebody_ is quiet," Clove says after a while. "Why so blue, Marina?"

"...You know why," Marina says, sounding ill.

"This about that kid? Pfft. He was pathetic and you knew it," Clove says. I suspect she just rolled her eyes.

"I knew him though. He had a young sister, family, he was a good person..." Marina mutters. "You made me do that."

"Technically she didn't. You held the sword," Glimmer adds teasingly.

"And Clove held the knife to my neck. Any other Tribute… you knew that would mess with my head," Marina says, shaking.

"Better your head than your neck," Marvel states. "Why do you feel so upset? Clove landed the killing blow because you couldn't do it right. Now she has an even bigger point lead."

"I do my best," Clove adds, giggling. "Just be happy you're not dead like that kid is. I could've killed you anyway."

"Shut up!" Marina yells. "Just shut up!"

Marina moves a few paces away, and sits down. I think she's close to tears right now. The rest of the Pack do not seem to care though.

After all, the Anthem has started.

I watch the Capitol Seal for a few moments. Nothing special. I'm more curious as to who the second cannon was for. They said it was for a girl, but which one? I think besides the girls below, and me, the only other females left are Sable, that little girl from Eleven – Rue I think- and the redhead from Five.

Urchin's face is shown in the sky. So young. But… I can't lie, it's a twisted relief. This way, I don't have to be the one to kill him anymore. I never knew him, but like Marina I'd feel upset. After a few moments, he's gone.

The next face I see in the sky, the second cannon, is the girl from Five. The smart girl with very red hair. I wonder what was chasing her that made her run onto Marvel's spear. The Careers didn't seem to find out. I hope I won't either. A threefold death – it's a shame, it puts another District out of the running and brings me a step closer to leaving.

The Anthem comes to a close, and once again everything is quiet. Eleven dead, twelve still to die horribly. One to live, and that's me.

"Let's get some rest. Killing to do tomorrow," Clove states, settling down.

The rest of the Careers besides Marvel follow Clove's lead while Marvel, spear in hand, begins to pace a little near the river. No fish attack him. Darn.

As I watch Marvel pace and the other Careers slumber with weapons in hand, it makes me think. I know Clove is dangerous and highly skilled, but it still strikes me as odd that she's the leader of this pack. All of the others are older than her, I'm sure, and besides Tamora they're all taller as well.

Probably my own doing. Cato would've likely led them if he was not reduced to a bunch of fleshy pieces.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

I'm sleepy. I'd just to be able to go to damn sleep already, but I can't. I don't want to risk sleeping, and then the Careers seeing me. I have my rope so falling isn't the problem, but Glimmer has her bow and arrows. Good shot or not, from down there she could easily hit me up here.

Marvel is asleep now, and it's Clove's turn to be on watch. I've been on edge ever since she woke up. If she just looks upwards and stares in the upper branches of this tree she'll see me. But so far, no knifes have been thrown between my eyes. Always good to be able to say that.

Oh, looks like Clove's watch is over. She gives Marina a kick, and not a light one, to wake her up.

"Your turn," Clove says firmly. "I'm getting some rest. Wake Glimmer once two hours have gone by. _Don't_ try anything funny."

"You're the boss," Marina replies. She sounds apathetic and unhappy.

A few minutes roll by, and Clove is sleeping. Just me and Marina now. Not that I feel any better about my chances of escaping this tree with her on watch. She'd still see me. I hate playing the waiting game. I miss the cloud game.

"When is morning gonna get here," I whisper, yawning a little.

A few more minutes roll by, and suddenly I see that this night might not be as long as I expected. Marina has got her sword in hand, a bag of supplies over her shoulder and carefully takes two of Clove's knives. Knives that had been not even a few inches from the Psycho of Two.

"You said no 'funny business', but comedy is subjective," Marina says, sounding full of hate. "May the odds be in favour of you dying. I'm _sorry_ Urchin..."

Marina starts to walk away and, once she's a distance from the others, breaks out into a full sprint as she flees into the night.

"...What am I doing? Time to move!" I whisper.

Carefully as I can manage, I make my descent down the tree. My heart pounds as I get closer to the ground, and my sleeping foes. If they wake up, it's game and life over. I gingerly touch down on the ground, expecting mayhem.

Nothing.

I don't risk trying to steal anything. Running away matters more. And that's what I do. I run, and run, and run. I'll run until I find a good place to sleep for the night.

As I move along, using some of the painkillers in one of my medical kits along the way, I can't help but feel a little pleased with myself.

"I escaped the Careers, and they never knew I was even there. I'm not just The Wolf Girl, but the Ninja from Nine too," I say, giggling.

As I eventually slump down in some tall grass, too exhausted to continue, I ponder on if I had nun-chunks or a shurikens. Then I'd be a real Ninja. How fun playing pretend can be.

Weapons or not, I think I should go back to the Cornucopia tomorrow. I think me and Miller need to talk, even if we did agree we'd not do that once the Games began.

Maybe it's just the pain and exhaustion within me, but this long grass is cosy…

* * *

 **END OF DAY 2…**

* * *

 ** **REMAINING TRIBUTES****

 ** **Marvel (District 1 Male)****

 ** **Glimmer (District 1 Female)****

 ** **Clove (District 2 Female)****

 ** **Marina (District 4 Female)****

 ** **Tamora (District 6 Female)****

 ** **Callico (District 8 Male)****

 ** **Miller (District 9 Male)****

 ** **Sickle (District 9 Female)****

 ** **Rammy (District 10 Male)****

 ** **Sable (District 10 Female)****

 ** **Thresh (District 11 Male)****

 ** **Rue (District 11 Female)****

 ** **Peeta (District 12 Male)****

* * *

 **THE FALLEN**

14th- **Cinder (District 5 Female)-** Impaled herself on Marvel's spear, and then stabbed in the heart by Clove.

15th- **Urchin (District 4 Male)-** Cleaved with a serrated sword by Marina, and then stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

16th- **Katniss (District 12 Female)** \- Two knives thrown into her back by Clove.

17th- **Weldar (District 3 Male)** \- Strangled and asphyxiated by Tamora.

18th- **Jason (District 6 Male)** \- Stabbed with a Kukri and then stabbed in the gut by a spear, by Marvel.

19th- **Wood (District 7 Male)** \- Throat slashed with a large cleaver by Glimmer.

20th- **Nettle (District 7 Female)** \- Stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

21st- **Gadget (District 3 Female)** \- Struck in the skull with an axe by Marina.

22nd- **Lacey (District 8 Female)** \- Impaled with a spear by Marvel.

23rd- **Sparky (District 5 Male** )- Knife thrown between the eyes by Clove.

24th- **Cato (District 2 Male)** \- Mines detonated by Sickle before the countdown was over.

* * *

 **TRIBUTE NOTES**

 **Urchin:** In one timeline, he's becoming a braver young man as his second story closes out. In this timeline, a scared kid hunted down by the Careers. But, he did live longer than in canon! A sad way to die, cleaved by your own District Partner (who we know in Urchin's story he is somewhat close to) and then stabbed by a Career. He may be dead, but his demise will certainly effect Marina for as long as she breaths, that's for sure...

 **Cinder:** Sadly, a short run for her in this story and a swift end to her life. We all know Cinder, or Foxface if you prefer, runs a lot, never staying still and being an easy target. What cruel irony she ran from some unknown danger only to run right into a sharper kind of danger. Not much of a role for Cinder in this one, but whatever was chasing her is still out there, lest we forget...


	3. 3: The One with the Glimmering Sniper

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

 **Note:** Somehow, I got most of this done in one day. Amazing how much I can get done once I feel motivated isn't it? I'm aiming to get Howling Hate done by the end of summer at the latest. I'm hoping this won't prove to be too much of a difficulty. I've got this one pretty mapped out and good to go, so hopefully I can keep myself motivated. There are a few arcs and surprises I'm looking forward to, that's for sure. ;) For now, chapter 3!

* * *

The first thing I see as I wake up is the morning sunlight shining through the canopy of the forest. I can't help but groan a little as I sit up, my arm aching from sleeping on it all night. Though if an aching arm is the worst of my issues right now, can I really complain?

I need to get to the Cornucopia, see what Miller has to say about working with the Careers. We'd agreed to stay away from each other, but he's gotta know they'll kill him eventually, right? Maybe if he could share supplies and we set up a trap for them down the line? Much like life itself, in the Hunger Games you gotta think ahead. In both cases, it can cause death if you don't.

I'm getting up and slinging on my backpack, ready to move on, when I notice that suddenly I have a bigger issue than my aching arm after all.

"That's a big one," I say as I start to back away from the bear a short distance away.

I bet it's a Mutt. Those claws look unnatural, not that I know much about bears, and its eyes are a pure red colour. No pupils.

Freaky…

I'm not sure why it didn't gore me in my sleep – maybe they want it to chase me and have me properly filled with terror before it gets me – but I won't complain that it didn't. I'm outta here!

"Yip!" I yelp, the bear spitting something at where I'd been standing. "A poison bear!?"

...I'm gonna hate myself for this so much, but if a pun will help get me more sponsors then so be it.

"This is pretty un _bear_ able! Come on!" I complain as I sprint along through the forest.

I can't lie though, I'm feeling terrified. Not even awake for a full minute and I'm on the run. Amazingly, not the worst wake-up call I've ever gotten. I know, right? What could be worse than being awoken by a beastly bear? I'd share the story, but my focus rests on escaping the damn mutt. No way can I kill the thing, even with my decent weapons. Not easily anyway.

I run through the forest, weaving between trees and leaping over logs and hedges. On a straight trail it would catch me, but if I weave through tight areas and through things that will make it stumble then I should be able to keep myself out of range. I don't want to imagine what I'd end up looking like if it gets it's claws and teeth on me.

As I sprint past a few berry bushes – I'll have to remember those for later – it occurs to me that if the bear does get me I won't be imagining anything, whether it's what I look like or anything else. I'd be dead.

"Whoa!" I yelp, ducking under a branch.

That branch was _not_ there a moment ago. Tricky Gamemakers.

"This is un _bear_ able!" I yell.

Already, I feel fatigue returning. I've been running around so much for these first two days, and my limbs already hurt… a night of sleep has not given me much to work with. I'm so very tired, but that bear clearly isn't.

"Do Mutts even get tired?" I can't help but ask, running between two trees growing close together.

A giggle escapes me as I hear the bear smack into the trees behind me. I'm not laughing long though once it's back on the move, the trees casting shadows above me.

"Whoa!" I yell, rolling clear. "I'm just trying to re _tree_ t!"

Oh how I hate myself for these stupid, _**stupid**_ puns. Even if I survive this bear, what will I be then? A girl who told a bunch of bloody awful puns for the sake of sponsors. I knew coming in that I'd get desperate sometimes, but I just never quite realised I'd be _this_ desperate.

The bear thunders behind me, it's pace heavy and making a loud pounding. I'm starting to slow down now, and running through tricky and tight terrain won't help me much longer. If I can't evade it on foot, and I can't fight it then I need to get somewhere it cannot follow. I can't climb a tree though, I'm too tired…

A cave! Yes!

"So long sucker!" I yell, running to the small cave. One look tells me the bear will not be able to fit inside.

It only occurs to me as I enter and press against the wall away from the entrance that I have now gotten myself corned. Dammit!

"I've just gotta grin and _bear_ it," I say with a sigh. Why do I keep doing this to myself, making those puns? After that, I probably deserve the mauling.

The bear snarls as it bounds over, but just as I suspected it is too big to fit into the cave. It tries, snapping it's jaws and wriggling, but it can't get anything past its neck area through. I'm safe. Well, safe-ish.

I yelp, dodging as it spits more of that horrid poison. Ok, clearly the safe thing is a work in progress. Although, if it cannot get to me… I can start hacking away, right? It'll be the Mutts own fault if it won't leave after the first strike. Not that it will, because it won't unless the Gamemakers make it leave, and I bet they want me very dead right now. _Well_ , I think as I take out my bladed whip, _I hope they can handle some disappointment_.

"Hope you can bear with me a little longer!" I yell, striking the Mutt.

Now, I'm not the strongest of girls. Strong willed, maybe, but I'm not really muscular or physically fit. Just a fourteen year old girl from a poor area of Nine, not much muscle to be had from that kind of life. But, something like the weapon I hold in my hand would make anybody become a lot stronger. Or at least able to cause pain. I clearly grabbed the right weapon from the Cornucopia because the blades slice into the Mutt's face. It howls, but doesn't make any attempt to retreat.

I strike the mutt again and again and again. It's face is raw, red and bloody very quickly. Strong as it was, the beast soon collapses from its wounds. I'm quickly running over it and out of the cave, not waiting for anything. This one may be dead, but more could be spawned at any time.

For now though, I'm safe.

"Phew, close one," I say, flopping my butt down on the ground. "Water..."

Good thing I still have plenty of water. A whole bottle is quickly finished off… so good. As I start eating some fruit and meat, I think to myself about where I might be now. Looking around, I'm not truly sure where I am.

"The swamp and Careers are back over yonder," I say, tapping my chin. "Marvel and Gimmer might be on the move now to the Cornucopia, and I'm here way off course. Hmmm… oooohhhh, there was a lake near the Cornucopia, so the river would feed into it. Though, which way was the river heading?"

I strain my thoughts, trying to remember. With how I was changing directions a lot to evade the bear, it's not a simple matter to remember where the river was. I'm trying to remember quickly, because a Mutt could arrive at any time. Thankfully, the memory is becoming clearer by the second.

"That-a-way," I say, grabbing my gear and heading off to an area that looks a bit more barren. "Maybe the Cornucopia has some chocolate. That'd be nice."

I'm walking on for a few minutes, but then I hear the sonar. A sponsor! Sure enough, here comes a parachute. Once I've stuffed the parachute into a hedge, I open the box that came with it. I can't help but smile, seeing a bottle of water and two chocolate bars. The nine on the wrapper tells me these are from home.

District Nine.

As I open one of the chocolate bars and take a bite, I know more than ever I'm gonna miss that place so much. I close my eyes, thinking about the candy store. That must have been where this chocolate came from.

"My thanks to my District. I'm winning this for all of you," I say, giving a wave. I know a camera will see me.

A small note has been attached. Hopefully it's good news, but I doubt it.

- _They're_ _ **not**_ _happy with you. For your own sake, try to behave and not do anything rash or hasty. Things can always get worse, so please be careful._

 _Laurel_ -

Just as I thought. Only the start of day three, and I've already pissed off the Gamemakers. I knew I would, but seeing it confirmed makes me feel tense. Well, I knew the trick with the mines was gonna be risky no matter what, and my smart mouth may have been a bit much. Hmm, there has to be a way around this. To keep on fighting, and not trigger the Gamemakers to blow me up or something.

Maybe I could follow the Careers. If I am close to the ones they'd want to win, would they try to trigger a trap and take out their preferred Victor candidates in the crossfire? Hmm… Glimmer and Marvel might be at the Cornucopia. All the more reason to keep heading in that direction.

"Ok Miller, time to see how you've been doing these first few days," I say to myself. "Hopefully well enough."

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

I think it's a little bit before midday currently. I found the river and have been following it for a while. After this walk, I'm surely near the Cornucopia now, right? I'd love to stop and rest. Maybe take a nap. But the sooner I am there the sooner I can talk to Miller, and maybe get some extra gear. That, or throw some of the Careers' stuff into the lake.

Probably would be a good idea to get rid of as many knives as I can. The fewer Clove has, the less of a danger she'll be. Not that she'd ever be easy to kill, or even evade. She's only fifteen though… dang, imagine how dangerous she'd be if she'd gotten three extra years of training. Scary, huh?

Yep, here's the lake. So, the Cornucopia should be just along the bank and in the big forest clearing that way. Not that I'm just gonna walk right over there. In plain sight I'd be butchered if anybody saw me. Well, anybody but Miller and by now he may have company. I'm feisty, not reckless.

"Ok. Tall grass, nice and slow," I tell myself as I carefully duck down into the tallest patches of grass near the river. I'm hidden. "Slowly does it."

I hear yelling. Looks like action is happening, and nearby too. I remain crouching low, out of sight, and listen. I can hear a lot of angry shouting. I can recognize the voices of Marvel and Glimmer, but that other voice… it's not Miller, so who is it?

"Get back here!" I hear Marvel yell, sounding furious.

"Kill him Marvel!" I hear Glimmer screeching. "I'll keep guard while you're gone!"

A moment later a boy sprints past me with a big back of gear over his shoulder, clearly stolen from the Careers. Based on the colour of his outfit, goldenrod yellow, he must be the boy from Eight. Uh...Callico, was it? He doesn't look scared though. Indeed, he seems to be enjoying the chase.

"Can't kill me if you can't catch me!" he teases Marvel.

In response Marvel throws his spear. Callico nimbly dodges it, the spear going into the lake.

"Might wanna get that, just saying," Callico states, snickering.

Marvel yells, trying to lunge at Callico, a knife in hand. Calico is quick to dash out of the way, which leaves Marvel to fall down the bank and into the water.

"See you later, Marv!" Callico says, digging an apple out of the supplies he has looted and taking a bite. "Life is delicious, isn't it? But make your supplies last, because I can go without food longer than you guys can!"

Callico takes off into the woods, and Marvel scrambles up the bank. He's soaked and looks furious. With his spear retrieved, he runs off after Callico with many curse words screamed as he runs.

I'm silent for a few moments longer before I let myself breath again. That's good, Marvel's gone. Now I just have to deal with Gimmer as a guard. If Miller is here though, maybe we can overpower her or something? If he's not here though… well, Bear Mutts are worse than Glimmer.

As I creep through the grass towards the Cornucopia, something hits me.

"...Wait a second, didn't Callico have a cast? How is he so nimble and skilled?" I say, confused.

I must admit, this is something I've been rather puzzled over. How does Callico have such good odds? Three to one is tied with Cato when he was alive, and while Cato had certainly lived a pampered life full of training, was basically perfect physically and was in his prime at eighteen… Callico is from Eight which isn't very rich, he is fourteen and he entered the Arena with his leg hurt and in a cast. Despite the leg cast, he was _still_ tied with Cato.

"That boy must be some kind of super soldier," I say, feeling a mix of impressed and nervous. "Crud, I hope I don't ever have to fight him. It wouldn't end well for me, especially now that his leg is better."

Whatever the reason, it doesn't matter. I'm never going to Eight to find out. No, I'm going to the Cornucopia to see Miller, and if he's not here then to get more gear. Soon, I kneel at the very edge of the perimeter and gaze around to see what, and who, is here.

Lots of the supplies remain, gathered around the mouth of the Cornucopia. Sharp weapons, food, sleeping bags… the motherload. Even with a load already taken there's plenty left. I could make use of that. Better I have it than the Careers. Yep! But, where's Glimmer? I heard her, and I doubt she'd just run off for no reason… and yet, she's nowhere on the ground. Is she on the other side of the Cornucopia?

Oh wait, no. _There_ she is.

"Very clever," I mutter. "This'll be tricky..."

Glimmer has climbed upon the Cornucopia and has perched herself up upon the tail of the silver horn, right at the highest point. She holds her bow, an arrow notched I think, and her quiver is probably full of extra arrows. She's like a sniper…

My advantage? I can see her, and she can't see me.

My disadvantage? Well, I suspect the fact she will see me as soon as I exit the tall grass, and that I have no kind of ranged weapon, might cause issues.

"Won't get anything done just sitting here," I mutter. "She's fired a few arrows already. She'll run out eventually."

I take a deep breath. Slowly, I remove my big backpack and hold it in my hands by the straps. I think it could shield me, somewhat.

"Ok Glimmer, let's see how good of a sniper you are," I say as I exit my hiding place.

I walk into the large clearing and stand my ground. A few seconds pass before Glimmer yells, having spotted me. I leap to the side instantly, an arrow sailing to where I was standing two seconds later. In fact, I think that one may have missed even if I had stayed still.

"Try again!" I call.

Gimmer doesn't reply. I bet she's angry, but she'd do better to try and hit me rather than swear at me. But, when people are angry they begin to make mistakes. That, or they miss their target.

"Come on! I'm wide open!" I call, giggling.

Again, Glimmer misses. A bit closer this time though. I can't stay in one place. While Glimmer notches another arrow I quickly grab the two she fired and snap them in half. The fewer arrows she has, the better!

"Hey! Bitch!" Glimmer yells, seeing what I'm doing.

"Hit me like I hit Cato!" I yell back.

That gets a reaction. Glimmer screams, firing a third arrow. It hits my backpack that I held in front of me. Can't be getting careless now. As with the other two arrows, I break it.

As I keep on the move, looping around the Cornucopia, a thought occurs to me. Am I… gonna kill Glimmer? I guess it looks that way. Cato's demise hasn't truly sunk in yet. What would adding a second kill to my count do to me? No, I can't think like that. The way to win these games and destroy them… is to play them the way that is expected. I have to.

A fourth arrow sails past me, going somewhere into the forest beyond. Gimmer is getting angry, but not quite angry enough to get careless. Screeching to a halt I turn and bend over a tad, pointing to my backside.

"Come on, I'm practically giving you a target!" I taunt, sticking my tongue out.

Now Glimmer is angry. I hear her screaming many swear words – a few I've never actually heard before – and getting ready to fire an arrow. Quickly, I start running again. Who wants an arrow in their butt, right? Can't say I do.

My smirk is gone as soon as the fifth arrow pierces into my left shoulder. I scream and scream as I feel it pierce right into me. Not lethal, probably, but it hurts! Ow, ow, ow! Owwww… aaahhh… the pain feels like a hot metal poker against my flesh. I feel the blood leaking out of me, staining my outfit.

"AAAARRGH! Ow! Holy Panem, shiiiiiit!" I scream, limping from how dazed the pain makes me feel.

I hear Glimmer laughing as she readies another arrow. But wait… she's discarded the quiver. This must be her last one! Though, it's all she needs to kill me. I'm not moving so fast now, so it'll be harder to dodge this one.

"Too bad Cato couldn't slash your throat. He really wanted to, darling!" Glimmer yells. "Buh-bye."

I pull up my backpack in front of me, dropping to my knees as I do so. After a few seconds of pain and terror, I realise that Glimmer's last arrow has pierced my backpack. I'm still alive.

I still have a chance.

I manage to rise to my feet, snapping the arrow as I do so, and groan a little. While Glimmer eyes me – maybe wondering what she'll do now that her arrows are all gone? - I grip the arrow that is pierced into my shoulder.

"One… two… three!" I yell, yanking the arrow out on three. "...AAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHH!"

Hopefully Marvel is too far away to hear me screaming. Oh fuck, that hurts! Ow! Owwwwww! But, better to take it out than leave it in, I guess. But still, I've never felt pain like that before. I grit my teeth, hissing.

"Suddenly, I miss the bear," I say, gasping and groaning. I feel tears of pain running down my face.

Glimmer laughs from where she is perched high above the ground. Even unarmed, she sounds smug and casual.

"What's so funny?" I manage to say, trying to keep my legs steady. "You're out of arrows. You're cornered."

"So? I can't reach you, true, but you can't do a thing to me either," Glimmer states, running a hand through her hair. "And when you leave I'll see the direction you're going. By nightfall the whole pack will be after you, ready to tear you limb from limb. Literally, may I add. You should've just stayed away, Nine."

"It's Sickle," I say. "Can't reach you, eh? Ok, we'll see about that!"

And so, I march over to the front of the Cornucopia. I'm practically working on autopilot at this point. I came here to see Miller, but as he's not here and Glimmer is… well, she said it herself, she will now where I am going. I have no doubt the Career pack would find me. Especially if the Gamemakers helped.

There's really only one thing for it.

"Twenty three to save many thousands," I mutter to myself as I grab two sharp sickles. "Hm, sickles. I feel a connection to these. Heheh."

Weapons in hand I make my way back over to Glimmer. She just looks at me, dull and unimpressed.

"What, you're gonna throw them at me?" she says dryly.

"Yep," I reply. "Sharp enough to harvest wheat. Sharp enough to cut your head."

"Pfftt, yeah right. You scored a three, why would I worry about you?" Gimmer asks, rolling her eyes. "Your biggest move was killing Cato, and you _only_ succeeded because you cheated."

"Oh, and training for these stupid Games isn't? What, too scared that us outer district kids would be too much to handle otherwise?" I ask, readying myself to throw with my good arm.

"Shut up!" Glimmer yells.

A throw the sickle, which spins as it soars towards Gimmer. She ducks in time but now looks more weary, and also almost loses her grip.

"Ok, screw this, I'm gonna come down and kill you myself!" Glimmer barks, scowling. "You better run or-!"

I throw the second sickle while Glimmer is still talking. She shrieks as it narrowly misses her head. Though it seems that doesn't matter. The blade of the sickle being so close made Gimmer startled enough that she has lost her balance and quickly falls backwards.

With a scream of alarm Gimmer falls to the ground head first. A horrible crack sound echos along with a small splat. I grimace, gagging a bit as Glimmer lays still. Her neck is bent at a very horrible angle and blood is leaking from her mouth.

A cannon fires, confirming the obvious.

"Halfway done," I mutter, gulping. "Was I the killer? Technically I didn't lay a hit on Glimmer. It was the fall that killed her… oh, excuses, excuses."

I look at Glimmer's corpse in pity for a moment, but only a moment as I know what I need to do. I take the bow and move her hands and arms so that she is holding it. This way when the hovercraft comes to pick her up the bow will be gone with her, and I don't need to worry about anybody grabbing it and getting sponsored arrows. My shoulder is proof of this being a very bad thing. Plus, I suck at archery so I'd never be able to use it anyway.

"Ok, time to restock," I say as I make my way to the front of the Cornucopia, still limping. "That, or get rid of some of the Career's favourite things. Urrrrggh, I hope my medical stuff can help with this."

The Hovercraft, or rather its crew, will be getting impatient but I hardly care. I might go a little slower on purpose just to see if it might cause them indigestion. It's fun, being a bit of a nuisance. With exaggerated slowness I open up my backpack and even slower I fit more stuff into it – a bottle of painkillers, more bandages, an extra knife, some food, that kind of stuff – with a cheeky grin on my face.

"That should be about enough," I say to myself.

"Holy crap, I am the worst guard ever," a voice behind me says, laughing a bit. "You take _one_ bathroom break, and then supplies vanish and somebody gets killed. Whoops."

Any voice behind me makes me nervous, especially in the Arena, but I still manage to softly chuckle. After all, with twelve still alive I doubt that Miller has any reason to try and attack me right now. I will fight him if he does though.

"Good to see you're still alive," I say, giving Miller a nod.

"Likewise," he replies. "So, Jabberjay in the room, what you did to Cato… damn, that was brilliant! I was stunned, of course, but I must say you may have turned the Games onto their head. So many people thought he would win, and he could've killed tons of us. Thank goodness you got him before he could get us. Plus, him being dead opened a spot in the pack for me."

"Lucky. And here I was thinking Clove now seeing me as her arch nemesis was something to cause envy," I say, dryly. "But, no worries. Ok, worries… it didn't feel good, really. But I had the rock, _they_ supplied the mines… whoops that my hand slipped?"

"A pretty big whoops then," Miller says, chuckling. "So, twelve left. We're both still here. Maybe Nine will have a Victor this year."

"That's my plan," I reply. "So, you and the Careers? How'd that one happen?"

"Right place, right time," Miller says. "Cato was killed and the pack was moaning over it. So at their weakest I approached them, sucked up to their egos and told them about my skill set. They let me in. Sure, no respect but hey, not like they are killing me yet. Though with Glimmer dead..."

"I saw Marvel run off. He probably saw Glimmer was up there. Maybe just lie that she lost her balance on her own and then died? Marvel would probably believe it, and if he does then the others will too," I suggest. "I'd say come with me, but..."

"Yeah, better alone," Miller shrugs. "No worries, I can take care of myself. You know how things are in my area of Nine. I guess you came here to talk to me? ...You want me to give you supplies?"

"Well, it'd be nice," I admit. "That, or I could take some knives and throw them in the lake so that Cove can't use them. I was just thinking maybe we could work something small out together and weaken those Careers from within?"

"I'd love to," Miller chuckles. "Though, if too much stuff is missing then the deal ends and my throat is cut. They have Tamora and Marina too."

"I saw. They chased me," I reply. "Though Marina ditched them, I saw it."

"Yes! I'm more precious to them!" Miller cheers. "Let me tell you, I am _**not**_ dying. If working with these sadistic shitbeasts gets me home… well, yeah. I bet they killed Cinder too, right? I'm just biding my time until I can make my move. For now, they'll protect me."

"Smart. Also, who is Cinder?" I reply.

Miller smiles sadly.

"The girl from five. She was _beautiful_..." Miller says, looking away for a moment. "I guess I always did have a thing for redheads."

I can't help but smirk a little, curling some of my red hair around a finger as Miller speaks.

"...Hardy har-har," Miller drawls. "Yeah, I'm staying here but I may be able to give you something every now and then, so check by every day or two. I'm not gonna go far. For now, I'll let you go… you better be quick though, as Marvel will be back soon. Soon after that Clove will be, and won't _that_ be fun?"

"Fun for the Capitol audience, maybe," I say, before lowering my voice. "I've been reduced to making bear puns to get sponsor money."

Miller pats me on the shoulder.

"You poor girl," he says sadly.

"Oh come off it," I reply, laughing. "Well, see you later Miller. Let's hope one of us gets out of this place."

"In the name of Mizar," Miller says grandly.

"In the name of Mizar," I echo, bumping fists with him. "Later."

And so, once I toss away a pack of throwing knifes into the lake, I'm on my way into the forest past the tail of the Cornucopia. I'm going back the same way I came on the first day, but I'll head off in a separate direction soon. I'd rather not risk going back to where those trees almost fell on me yesterday. Chances are they'll be set back up, and ready to crush me once again. And if they are still fallen over, well, there are more trees they could make fall upon me.

I've only been walking for a few minutes before I hear a loud roar from behind me. It's several seconds before I realise it's not a Mutt of some kind. It's Clove, and she's furious.

No doubt she was already angry that Marina ditched her, and now she'll be furious furious that Glimmer is dead. Well, unless Miller tells her I had a _little_ something to do with that she won't know it was me. Even so, with Clove furious I quickly start to pick up the pace until I'm sprinting. Whether she knows I was here or not, she'll kill me on sight.

"Half of us dead. The Games are only just beginning now," I say as I jog along. "This is gonna _hurt_."

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

I've been walking for quite a while now. I must be really far out as I've not seen any signs of life in ages, be it Tribute or Mutt. Just the depths of the forest. Even with all the trees and plants, it feels so lifeless out here. I'm not sure what direction I'm going, but I'm staying on the move anyway. If I keep moving it's less likely that I'll end up being found.

"Still a while until the Anthem, and no cannons," I say. At least hearing my own voice calms me a little. "Could be one any time. Wonder who it would be..."

It won't be mine. No way! I'd never want to hear my cannon… though I guess I'd not be able to, really. Besides me, it's eleven others who could die next. I'm not sure who is more likely, as these Games haven't been typical so far, have they?

Clove, Marvel, Miller and Tamora are all in the Career pack. Being a group and the two trained Careers low on numbers, they'll hold for a while longer. I'm sure of it. Plus, they have the bulk of the Cornucopia supplies, for now.

Marina ran off on her own, though she's strong and had a good weapon. If the Careers find her, it'll be messy. She could be one to die soon, if she's careless.

Callico is also alone and I didn't see him holding any weapons. But, even with a leg cast he had joint-best odds with Cato. I think he's gonna be fine one way or the other. Still though, how did he get so good…? I can't say I have any idea how. All I saw during the reaping recap were cheers and salutes when he volunteered.

Rammy and Sable are no doubt still together. A solid team, and with Rammy being so strong and Sable being good with medical stuff, I can see them surviving a bit longer. Rammy might throw himself in front of a Mutt for Sickle though.

Thresh, I bet is somewhere by himself. I saw him turn down the Careers when they offered him a spot. I respect that… but, respect for the dead? I'm not sure, I think he's tough enough to live another day.

And then there's Peeta, and that little girl… Rue? Yeah, Rue, that's her name. I've not seen them at all since the Games began. I wonder where they are now? In full health, or laying wounded? I don't know.

So after that roll call, I guess I have no idea who's gonna kick the bucket next. At least being alone with my thoughts took my mind away from my legs being tired, and now I've come to an area with slightly more life to it.

"Mushrooms," I say to myself.

It's a grove full of mushrooms! Some of them look pretty good. Very appealing, and a sweet scent in the air.

...No. No. Nononono! These have to be poisonous, it's way too good to be true! Not to mention how some of them are just laying around, uprooted, almost like a trap.

Or maybe _exactly_ like a trap.

"Not gonna fall for it," I say, shaking my head. "I have enough food already, thanks. I don't need any poisonous food to go with it."

As I leave the clearing though, I quickly take my bladed whip into my hand. I get the feeling I am being watched. I just wish I knew who it was that might be watching me. I walk in a new direction, turning around a little as I go to keep my gaze on everything, and I pause.

Eyes.

I blink, but now they're gone. For a moment, I was sure I saw a pair of wide eyes watching me from a tree. Like those of a possum, kinda. I wish I knew who those eyes belonged to.

"Three days in, and I'm already going a bit crazy," I say, shaking my head. "Aw, nuts."

And soon, I'm running again. This is my life now. Running, always running.

* * *

 **(Later…)**

* * *

Whoever was the owner of the eyes, they've not followed me. Not that I can tell. It's been silent for so long now, with only the sounds of my breathing to keep me company. That, and my pained squealing when I was fixing my shoulder up. That rubbing alcohol stuff really packed a punch. I thought it was meant to make me feel better?

It's dark now, and that means I need to find a place to rest soon. The stars and moon and up, and the Anthem near. No new cannons yet, but the Careers will be on the hunt once again soon enough. I just hope I've gotten a good lead over them by now.

"I must have walked miles and miles," I say, yawning a little. "Need sleep."

The moonlight looks brighter just up ahead. I don't need to wonder why for long, because it's just a minute later that I exit the forest and see a great field of wheat before me. It's pretty massive. It stretches so far.

It's just like being home.

I can't help but approach the wheat and trace my hand along it. The softness of it… I can't help but hitch my breath for a moment. For a second there, it really felt like I was home. But I'm not, it's just a field of wheat within an Arena. Just another place for people to die.

Then again… nobody seems to be around, so why not take advantage of that? Wheat is soft, and I'd be hidden from sight if I keep myself low. Plus, it's edible. That's certainly not a bad thing.

"My name is Sickle Wheatly… and today, I held sickles and found wheat. This Arena really was made for me," I can't help but remark as I start to settle down in the wheat.

As I lay down, I began to eat some of my food, and drink water as I wait for the Anthem. I already know what's going to happen, of course, but why bother sleeping when it's not played yet? I'd just be woken up when it does begin anyway.

Time passes, maybe half an hour or so, and the Anthem begins. Lazily I flip the bird to it as the Capitol Seal is displayed. Honestly, how many times do they need to show that thing off? We get it, you like how it looks. Whatever people!

When the Seal is gone Glimmer's face appears in the sky. I'll give her one thing, that shot she landed really hurt. I was terrified that was it for me. Taking her on was cocky, but either way… halfway done.

The Anthem comes to an end, and all is dark and quiet once more. I can hear crickets somewhere, chirping away. Cute. And… maybe a food source if I get really desperate? Not like I have any room to be picky.

"Tiny Anthem today," I can't help but say. "Of course, nothing can really compare to the first Anthem there ever was. The first Anthem Mizar saw."

Oh yeah, I guess I never really bought it up in detail. Nine hasn't had many Victors overall, and none for years now… but, we did have the first Victor that there ever was. A boy by the name of Mizar Aldjoy. He's something of a hero back in Nine. Ok, more than that. He _is_ a hero. He opened his Victor Village house's doors for the poor, he used his money to help us under the nose of the Capitol. He always tried so hard to help Tributes, mentoring every single year in fact, and made sure none who fell were ever forgotten.

I wish I could've met him. Told him my ultimate plan. See what he thought. Sadly, he passed shortly before I was born.

That's why me and Miller did that fist bump 'in the name of Mizar'. It's like a sort of vow of determination back in Nine. From issues big to small. One of us will be getting out of here, and I'd hope it to be me. That's the thing with Mizar, to us Nine's he means hope. He was terrified every single second of the First Hunger Games, from reaping to the last battle. But he never lost hope. He cried, and he showed a lot of fear, but he never truly broke. His one kill was in self-defence.

I guess I'm getting a bit off topic, but besides Mizar being our hero, even in death – he has a statue made of him in the wheat fields – the thing I was getting at with the Anthem was that on the first day of the First Games, eighteen tributes died. I saw the full release of the games, as it's forced viewing at school, and the look on Mizar's face as he watched the sky… that look doesn't leave you. So even with the pain today, does it really compare to back then? It's mind boggling, that in a Hunger Games - besides the Fiftieth - eighteen Tributes died in the bloodbath.

But that's how Mizar's story began. A very absurd bloodbath. Kind of like my own in a way. Not that I can call myself much like him.

I'm rambling.

"I sure do think a lot when I'm tired," I say to myself, laying my head down on the wheat. "At least I'm alone and might just get a decent rest..."

As I start to drift off, I can't help but really think of how half of the Tributes are dead. Now it's gonna get tougher. It's the real players left now… one of whom wants me cut up beyond recognition. That's a goal for tomorrow, stay _far_ away from Clove.

Beyond that, I'll just stay alive and see what ends up happening.

* * *

 **END OF DAY 3…**

* * *

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES**

 ** **Marvel (District 1 Male)****

 ** **Clove (District 2 Female**** ** **)****

 ** **Marina (District 4 Female)****

 ** **Tamora (District 6 Female)****

 ** **Callico (District 8 Male)****

 ** **Miller (District 9 Male)****

 ** **Sickle (District 9 Female)****

 ** **Rammy (District 10 Male)****

 ** **Sable (District 10 Female)****

 ** **Thresh (District 11 Male)****

 ** **Rue (District 11 Female)****

 ** **Peeta (District 12 Male)****

* * *

 ** **THE FALLEN****

13th- **Glimmer (District 1 Female)-** Broke neck after falling off the Cornucopia

14th- **Cinder (District 5 Female)-** Impaled herself on Marvel's spear, and then stabbed in the heart by Clove.

15th- **Urchin (District 4 Male)-** Cleaved with a serrated sword by Marina, and then stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

16th- **Katniss (District 12 Female)** \- Two knives thrown into her back by Clove.

17th- **Weldar (District 3 Male)** \- Strangled and asphyxiated by Tamora.

18th- **Jason (District 6 Male)** \- Stabbed with a Kukri and then stabbed in the gut by a spear, by Marvel.

19th- **Wood (District 7 Male)** \- Throat slashed with a large cleaver by Glimmer.

20th- **Nettle (District 7 Female)** \- Stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

21st- **Gadget (District 3 Female)** \- Struck in the skull with an axe by Marina.

22nd- **Lacey (District 8 Female)** \- Impaled with a spear by Marvel.

23rd- **Sparky (District 5 Male** )- Knife thrown between the eyes by Clove.

24th- **Cato (District 2 Male)** \- Mines detonated by Sickle before the countdown was over.

* * *

 **TRIBUTE NOTES**

 ** **Glimmer:**** In this timeline it's another role as a more minor antagonist for her, but I think Glimmer was fun to write for when she showed up, all the same. Snarky and spoiled when in the group talk with the pack, and a scene of being a very big threat when alone. Glimmer may not be an expert with the bow and arrow, but in the movie she seems to be somewhat better than she was in the book. We never got to see her make much use of it in the movie, or book really, so I felt it could be a fun idea to have her use her 'signature weapon' in a sentry / sniper roll. After all, the Cornucopia can be climbed and from the tail of it one would have a large view and range to use the bow and arrow. Unfortunately, a lack of balance can be killer. Unlike Urchin and Gadget's timelines, at least here Glimmer died more or less quick and painlessly, right?


	4. 4: The One where Sickle Feels Like Shit

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

 **Note:** Another update! Not much to really say except that I like the way the story is going and I hope you guys are as well. A decent sized chapter here with things happening, so I won't stall. Enjoy!

* * *

I never expected to have a peaceful night within the Arena. I'd thought, though, that finding the field of wheat and hiding myself in it would have given me the best rest I've had since I got reaped.

I was clearly wrong, as I'm suddenly awakened by somebody strong grabbing me and quickly holding me against a tree. I feel dazed from the force used and the shining morning sun in my eyes. It takes a few moments for the figure to come into focus, and quickly I see that I'm looking at the huge guy from Eleven. I knew I was small compared to him, but now I feel really tiny. Like he could crush me under his foot!

Maybe that's his plan?

Thresh looks at me. I look back and, naturally, start to struggle. It's no use though, he's got me firmly in his grip and all my gear is in my backpack on the ground! He's got my legs restrained with one of his own pressed against them, and my arms are stuck. I can sort of move my right one, but it's not gonna help me.

"...Good morning?" I manage to say.

Thresh looks at me silently, like he's sizing me up. Fine with me. The longer he holds me and doesn't kill me, the more chance I have to think of a way to get out of this.

"You shouldn't have come to my field," he says.

"Your field?" I reply. "I thought it was just a field anybody could go to. It reminded me of home, and you didn't try to get my to leave last night, did you?"

"Didn't see you coming," Thresh states. "I've been here since the start. The Careers don't want to attack where I have the upper hand. As I said, you shouldn't have come here."

"Geez, sorry. I wasn't exactly keeping track of where you ran off to. I was more focused on blowing up Cato and then grabbing what I needed before everybody started moving," I say, doing my best forced apologetic look. "...My bad?"

Thresh just shakes his head slowly.

"You don't seem to be afraid to die," he says after a few moments.

"Not even slightly," I admit. "I'm more just afraid of dying too soon."

For a few seconds we're silent like this, Thresh restraining me against the tree and me glancing up at the clouds.

"You could let me go, you know. The Careers are gunning for me, so they'd leave you along until they kill me. Not that they're gonna," I offer. "You'd be left in peace."

"Can't do that. Only one of us is gonna be able to leave," Thresh says firmly. "I'd rather not do it, but there's nothing owed between us, you see? We're fully equal and you came into my field. If I let you go now, we may just cross paths later and then we'd fight, making sparing you pointless."

Now I'm starting to get nervous. I know I'll die at some point, but not yet! It's not time yet! But, how can I get out of Thresh's grip? He's got me locked in place, and all he needs to do is slash me with that crescent sword on his belt, or smash me into the tree headfirst. How am I gonna kill this guy?

Though maybe I don't need to kill him. Just evade him. Yeah, that'd work. Well, it would if I could get out of his grip and as he looks to be done talking I'm running out of time to think of something.

"So, anything you wanna say before you go? I'm in no hurry, say whatever you need," Thresh says. If not for the fact he is about to murder me, he'd be such a gentleman.

Aha! The taser in my pocket, yes! I just need to reach it. Just making him loosen his hold for a moment and I could do it. But how would I do that? Make him really angry so he loses focus… he'd clobber me! But if he's gonna kill me anyway, what do I have to lose? He did say for me to 'say whatever I need' and that's pretty broad...

I can't stop myself from letting out a mischievous giggle.

"What?" Thresh can't help but ask. "What's got you laughing Nine?"

"Your mum. She's such a joke," I say, pulling a goofy face. "I hear they went to interview your family early this year, because they needed to base some Mutts off her. I mean, that face, you know? Not a pretty one."

Thresh snarls, letting out an angry yell. Sure enough though, his grip has loosened from his instant reaction to this. When people get angry they make mistakes.

"Eat this!" I yell, grabbing out my taser in the one second I have to move my arm.

Thresh screams as I jab the taser against his face, and he falls to the ground with a roar of pain. I won't stick around and fight though. When he gets up, he'll not hold back for a moment and he'd strike me down in a one on one fight.

"Better get running, Nine!" Thresh yells, staggering back up.

I'm a rebellious girl, but I follow orders sometimes. Like now, for example. I've grabbed up my gear and am fleeing into the forest as quickly as my legs can carry me. I won't get away a second time if Thresh gets his hands on me again. He's bigger than some of the Peacekeepers in Nine, and those don't paint a pretty picture of what my corpse would be like after a duel with Thresh.

"Note to self, never ever go back to that field for as long as Thresh is alive," I say as I sprint along. "Second note, never insult his mother!"

I glance back expecting to see Thresh is gone – after all, why would he want to leave his field if he was safe there? - but nope, as if I could be that lucky. He's already recovered from the taser to the face and now he's chasing after me.

Oh geez!

"I'm getting pretty sick of running," I groan, panting as I flee. "I must have lost fifteen pounds already these Games, maybe more."

The question now is where can I go to lose Thresh? He's big and strong, so perhaps I could climb a tree? Though he may catch me before I can reach one that I could make my way to the top of. And if he tried to set the tree on fire, where would I be then? I have no other options though, so a tree will have to do.

Maybe if I told him my post-Victory plan he'd let me go, but with all the cameras it's not like I can say anything, is it? At least Thresh is making it easy to not feel very attached to him.

Aha, a tree! And one I can easily climb, at that! It's covered in little branches and footholds. Almost like it was made for me. I won't question luck, I'm going up. Breathing heavily, I climb my way upwards, and soon slump upon a higher branch, panting and gasping. My lungs are burning. Next up, water…

"Gonna come down, or am I gonna come up?" Thresh asks as he arrives.

"Try it, and you'll get a foot to the face," I reply, trying to put on my tough face. "Skedaddle!"

Did I really just say that? Skedaddle. What is _wrong_ with me, besides those bear puns I made yesterday? Well, not like I had that much dignity to begin with.

"I guess we're at an impasse then. Because I want to kill you, and you won't let me reach you," Thresh says, frowning. "...Fine, this one time I'll let you go. It's not worth being out here in the open and just waiting for you to get down when I could be back at my field where it's safer. But if we cross paths again, I will kill you. Don't come back."

With that, Thresh leaves back in the direction of the wheat field. Typical really. The one place in the Arena I thought was safe – and a reminder of home – and it's claimed by a huge guy who wants to crush me like a grape.

"At least I made it out of that one mostly unscathed," I say after a few minutes. "Too bad my back stings a bit."

Given how Thresh had grabbed me and slammed me against a tree, my back is sore currently. No spine injury from what I can tell, but who knows? One girl last year died five days into the Games because she was bleeding internally from the start, and never realised. I may not be bleeding but I am stinging already. Aaahhh…

"Nothing broken," I say after feeling my back for a moment. "A bruise, but that won't kill me yet."

I'm about to make my way down the tree, when the tree decides to help me down. Or rather, the Gamemakers make the tree begin to fall over, with me in it.

And I'm on the side falling forward to the ground.

"Shit!" I yelp, leaping off to the side, soon landing with a thud upon the hard forest ground. I bite my sleeve to muffle my scream. "Nggghhh!"

The tree falls with a crash a moment after I did, and all is silent. Though, now I feel pretty shaken and rattled. Ow, ow, ow. Sitting up I groan and try to shake my head a little. Everything is spinning… a concussion, or just being dazed from the fall for a bit? I'd hope for the latter.

The bigger issue though is that my left arm is now almost aflame with pain. I'm not sure if it's broken, or I just badly pulled something, but I doubt I'll be getting much use out of this one for a while. Damn, this hurts! Ouch!

"At least I'm right handed," I say, starting to stagger along. I soon hold a knife in my right hand. Little help here? Maybe some of that amazing Capitol medicine? You guys make the best stuff ever! I sure wish I was one of you!"

I hate myself for every word I say that sucks up to them, but the sooner I can get my arm working properly again the sooner I can win and then make the Capitol _burn_.

"If you give me some medicine I'll give you a hug once I win," I offer. "In fact, a hug and a peck on the cheek?"

Maybe dying isn't so bad after all compared to being reduced to sucking up to these Capitol idiots.

Even my best smile doesn't cause any gifts to appear for me. Maybe I don't have enough sponsor funds, or maybe the funding is being kept for something better? Looks like I'll have to make do with a lousy arm for a while. But maybe… maybe if funding is the issue here, I could do something to get me a bunch of sponsor funds? I would've thought taking down Glimmer, kind of, would be enough but if more money is needed to stop this buggering pain in my arm, I'll get more.

Only one perfect way to gain sponsor funds though, and that's murder.

"Twenty three to save many thousands," I whisper very quietly.

No way am I going back to try and take on Thresh. I'd be dead in a heartbeat, even if my heart would stop. No, it'll have to be somebody else. Not that I know who it will be. Just somebody who I could stand a chance against, or sneak up on. Backstabs are an effective method in these Games. Never fails, so long as you're quiet.

I'm quiet, and I have the knife. I just need a target. That and some idea where I'm going. Yesterday was easy, as I knew where the Cornucopia was. Now though? I know where Thresh is, and I know the Career Pack is by the Cornucopia… not much temptation for me to go to those places.

"Guess I'll be going this-a-way then," I decide, spinning my knife in my free hand as I walk on my way.

I'll stop for water soon. I better make it last, because I need those funds for something for this damn arm. If I run out of supplies and Sponsors, it's gonna _**hurt**_.

"Oh, by the way, please don't send Mutts that look like Thresh's mom, ok?" I request, knowing a camera will hear me. "I might die of fright, you see."

Whatever gets me my money and supplies.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

Being able to drink water after a lot of walking, it felt so good. I'd kill for more water!

...I guess that's what I'm doing now though, I suppose. I still have water remaining, but once I get my medical supplies I should have enough funding for water too. Sometimes, it just comes down to who doesn't die of thirst.

I checked the medical supplies I have. Gauze, pain killers, soothing cream, some kind of medicine for colds and infections, a splint and some funky smelling bottle of what I hope is a 'healing potion or something. The pain is dulled, but nothing is really suited for what might be a broken, or cracked, arm.

"Is it really that much for something to inject into my arm to make the pain go away?" I say out loud. "...I don't mean heroin!"

I guess it makes sense the Capitol is so filthy rich. They'd have to be to buy any of the stuff that they have considering that by final day of a normal Hunger Games it takes as much as two thousand caps for a pair of crackers.

Whatever, I tell myself, at least I'm still alive. Who else can say that? Well, twelve of us can. More notably, twelve of us can't. Not that they can really say anything, in the end.

"Where's everybody else?" I say to myself as I scramble up a steep bank. "Ah, nggggh!"

Note to self, no climbing until my damn arms feels better! Aaahhh, that didn't tickle. No, no it didn't Ow!

"Hmm, this area looks new," I say to myself as I carefully make my way forwards.

I've stumbled upon a grove of some kind. Plant life is everywhere here, and many mockingjays are up in the trees. They're watching me. Though, they don't seem to have any intent to attack me. Good thing too, because right now the last thing I want is more pain. Too much injury early on, and I'll be dead for sure, no matter how long I last. I need to be somewhat able to function to survive whatever finale is in store for me. Everybody looks and feels like crap by the end of every Hunger Games, but whoever is the least crappy tends to be the winner.

"I know you guys are enjoying the show, but my possibly broken funny bone isn't making me smile," I grumble as I walk through the grove.

It's eerily peaceful around here. Just the sounds of mockingjays singing, the gentle breeze, some bugs clicking here and there. It sounds nice, but I can't help but get the feeling something is really not right here. Quietly, I grip my knife tighter and hold it at the ready in front of me.

I see footprints on the ground. Fresh ones too. Somebody is very close to me.

"Come on out," I mutter. "Show me what you've got."

I pause hearing the wonderful sonar of a sponsor. I almost squeal in delight as I look up, expecting to see a gift arriving for me. But no, there's nothing. I'm not receiving anything.

But somebody else is.

I can see the parachute above the trees somewhat. It's floating down a distance ahead of me, softly beeping all the way. No doubt going towards whichever Tribute it is intended for. The Tribute I'm gonna need to kill for something to get my arm fixed up.

I breath quietly as I begin to stalk off towards here the parachute fell. I'm crouching as I walk, my knife at the ready. I must not be making a sound – even the twigs and branches on the ground are silent beneath my feet – and that's a good thing. After all, if it's a powerful Tribute I'll want to have the element of surprise on my side.

"C'mon, let's see who you are," I mutter, silently making my way past some bushes and standing crouching behind a tree. I slowly peer out.

...Shit.

"Thank you!" a voice says gratefully.

It's that little girl from Eleven. That small girl of just twelve years old. Day four, and she still looks to be in decent shape. She's even happy, holding a bag of fruit close. No doubt grown back in her District. She sits down, her back to me, and begins to quickly eat some of it.

"So good," she says. "Oh, thank you! Don't worry, ok? I'll be home soon, before you even know it..."

She won't be, though. Not if I'm gonna get out of here. Who ever heard of two Victors, and from different Districts at that? ...Of all the Tributes it could've been! I was somewhat relieved when the other little one died, because at least then I didn't have to do it, but I've made clear I'm on the hunt, and now there's Rue. If I back away now, I'd lose any sponsors I had. The Capitol civilians are not very interested in mercy, and if any are they probably aren't rich knowing my luck.

I close my eyes, gripping my knife tightly. She's not noticed that I am here… I could sneak up, and get her in the back. Quick, clean and painless, mostly. But is that who I wanna be? The girl who killed a twelve year old? That usually only happens at the hand of a Career, and a sadistic one too. I wouldn't be much different from Clove in that case.

I don't have to do this.

But if I don't, my arm stays busted and I'll probably be killed later once Clove tracks me down again. I can't put my plan in action if I am dead! I can't… do what I have to, once I win.

...Forgive me Rue, when we meet on the other side.

I move closer to Rue, trying to be silent as I go with knife in my hand. I don't dare breath, and I try to not think of what Rue's family must be doing now. Screaming and yelling in panic, most likely. I'm almost in range.

"I miss you mum," Rue says, looking up at the clouds. "Same for everybody else. I wanna see you guys again."

I stab Rue in the back before she can say anything else. Another word, and I'd have lost my nerve. The knife goes several inches deep into her, and Rue lets out a breathless choked gasp. I yank the knife out, and instantly she slumps forwards. A few seconds pass in silence as she lays slumped over on the ground of the forest, perfectly still. The mockingjays have gone very quiet.

A cannon fires.

In moments I have dropped my knife, and dropped myself to my knees. My breathing is getting shaky, and my eyes are wide. I'm starting to scratch my hands, shaking all over. I'm suddenly feeling very distant from the Arena around me.

"I killed her..." I whisper. "Shit, I killed her!"

In seconds I puke into a bush and am staggering, trying to keep myself together. I can hear the sonar of a parachute coming down from above, but I'm only able to focus on Rue's dead body. Young, innocent… dead because of me.

I'm shivering sickly as I lean against the tree, using my good arm for support. The parachute has landed, but I don't bother to pick it up. At this point, I deserve the pain in my arm.

"I though it'd be easy," I whisper. "Twenty three dead, so I can..."

I shake my head, gagging as I shiver more. A cold sweat has overtaken me. Killing Cato felt bad, but this, this feeling _**hurts**_. Of course I never relished in killing Cato, but maybe it felt easier because he would've killed me in a second if he wanted to, and he eyed all of us like meals. Like prey. He was gonna enjoy every second of it. But Rue, laying dead at my feet… she was never going to hurt me. Maybe not anybody even. In fact, maybe it's not that she couldn't… I don't think she _would_ have either.

"I did this, I did this," I mutter, wheezing. "I killed a little girl."

I'm silent as I pick up my sponsor gift. Sure enough, it's the medicine I need. Some kind of super high tech injection, or something. Not that I care with my focus on the dead girl on the ground. She would've died anyway… so why does it hurt so much?!

"I hope you bastards are happy!" I scream. "I bet it's real funny seeing kids that aren't yours getting killed, you bastard Cappy's!"

I shakily gasp for air as I stumble away, my head feeling very light.

"Not that I'm really any better..." I add, quietly.

First I'm walking through the forest, and then Im running away frantically. Anywhere but back there! But soon I'm back to walking, brokenly. I'm trying to be strong and hold back my tears. I can't cry, I can't… I won't! I need to keep it together and keep being strong.

Why is it so hard to hold in my sobbing? Why am I not strong like I thought I was? I'm weak…

"Thresh is gonna tear me apart if he learns about this," I say, anxious. "Crap, am I going towards his field? No, no, nope, not happening, no! I'll go… I don't know, that way? I don't care right now..."

With my body hurting from guilt, I walk on. I'm not sure where I'm going, but like I said I don't care. I just want to be alone to cry. Sure, the cameras can see me, but it's a small comfort if no Tributes can.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

I've managed to find my way to a large tree. A giant oak, possibly, and one that extends past the canopy of the forest. No doubt a safe place to spend the night unless the Gamemakers have it fall like the last one. Though I'm not making any move to go up even as the afternoon is going on and starting to turn into the evening. No, I'm just sitting here thinking over what I have done.

I killed a little girl. Not something anybody can do and feel proud of, I'm sure. In fact, I feel pretty sickened at myself. To end the Capitol's Games, I have to play their Games… and play them I have. I shudder at the thought of the looks Eleven's citizens must be sending me if they are watching me on screen. I deserve those looks though, don't I?

"Why don't the pain go away?!" I yell, stabbing my knife into the tree behind me and covering my face with my hands, sobbing. "Why won't it…?"

I hear a snarling and quickly my knife is back in my hand. I barely even focus past my tears as I stab the sleek, boney wolf Mutt in the face and then in the gut a few times. I sigh as I sit back down and continue to sniffle. Around me are, like, five or six dead Mutts. I guess the Gamemakers want me to move, or die… maybe they're only sending weaker creatures because seeing me broken by something solely my fault is good enough, for now?

I remember how I didn't care I was reaped four years before I turned eighteen, the time I planned to volunteer. I felt it was no issue putting the plan into motion four years early, But it is an issue… I'm not emotionally strong enough for this. I'm not! I'm still young, and I'm starting to see I really am way in over my head, thinking I was some toughie who could handle anything without breaking a sweat…

"At least I won't starve, with al these Mutts. Probably edible," I say after a while. "Making a fire might be risky though. But do I care?"

Even with my sobs and shudders, I gather my resolve.

"I feel like shit, but I'm not gonna let them kill me. I have to win," I tell myself. "I must be a Victor. I must be like..."

I can't bring myself to say Mizar's name. After all, I'm nothing like him. He was a more gentle and timid guy who kill once, when he had no other option. I'm more of a firecracker who has killed two people, and neither time was unavoidable.

"...I must be like somebody worthy of surviving," I decide after a few moments.

That's about the time I hear the sounds of somebody nearby. I fumble for my knife… but I drop it fast, like it was on fire or something. That knife has killed. It's dirty! I… I… I can't do it again! I can't do it…

"Nonononono!" I mutter frantically, grabbing my gear quickly and jumping up to run away.

I've only made it about two dozen yards, passing through some big bushes, before another Mutt jumps me. Now, I feel very, very stupid for leaving my knife. A dirty weapon, but I sure could use it now! I scream, trying to hold the beast back by its neck with just my hands.

The Mutt – another of those boney wolves – snarls down, staring hatefully into my eyes. My arms hurt, and I'm losing my hold. Any second, its teeth will tear apart my face. I said I was the wolf girl… I'm not just about to die horribly, but ironically too. I'm struggling and screaming, trying to hold on to life long enough for any sign of escape.

"Help!" I scream. "Help! Somebody!"

Of course, nobody is going to help, are they? Well, _maybe_ Miller would but he's nowhere near me. Just some other person I heard, and why would they help me? Another dead Tribute would bring them one step closer to home. Nobody is that selfless, and in this place I wouldn't blame them either.

So then, why is it just as I am about to lose my all hold and get gored up that I hear the sound of somebody rapidly sprinting towards me and then see the pain in the Mutt's eyes as it screams and howls in pain.

"Get off her!" a voice yells. Wait… I've never heard that voice before.

I'm still shaking and groaning as the unknown person – a boy, I know that much – roundhouse kicks the Mutt off me and, after raising their spear, strikes it down into the torso of the Mutt and kills it instantly.

I groan, managing to sit up and shake my head a bit. My heart pounds painfully, but at least it's still beating at all. As I look up, my saviour looks back at me. His blond hair, his muscular frame, the coal black jacket… it's Peeta, the boy from Twelve. The only Tribute I had not yet seen in the Arena. He seems hurt… though unlike most of us, it's nothing physical. He seems to be suffering from emotional pain, looking at his eyes.

I guess Katniss' early demise has hit him hard. I remember how he admitted he loved her in his interview, and it seems it wasn't an act. I can't help but feel a little guilty for assuming it was.

For a few moments we're silent as we look at each other, perhaps sizing each other up. Soon enough though, Peeta drops my knife beside me, the one I had discarded.

"You, uh, dropped this," Peeta says, looking almost awkward.

Peeta then offers me his hand.

"You alright?" he asks.

I'm silent for a moment, before I take his hand and allow him to help me up to my feet.

"I've been much better," I say. "But thanks… Peeta, right?"

"Yeah, that's me," he says. "Boy with the bread, some call me."

"Peeta… isn't that sorta like a kind of bread? Pita bread?" I ask. I never saw it before, but Peeta… his name is something of a pun. Not that it's a big deal when there was somebody here called Jason. Who in Panem calls their son _Jason_?

Peeta seems amused to hear this.

"Yeah, that's baker parents for you," Peeta says, chuckling distantly. "Naming their sons after bread. A-anyway, that was a close one. Why'd you drop your knife?"

Because part of me felt I deserved to suffer.

"Because I got careless," I say instead. "Better question, why did you save me? Only one Victor. If I was dead, you'd be closer to home."

"...You never did me any wrong," Peeta says, looking to the side. "Plus, I don't think anybody deserves to die by being torn apart by a Mutt. I want to live, but I'm likely to die, and if I do… I just wanted to have found a way to show them they do not own me. If that means saving you, then that's what I'll do."

Peeta stops, looking awkward.

"Sorry for rambling," he says. "Anyway, I should get going. Only one Victor, and-."

I stop Peeta, my hand on his shoulder. I may be tired and a bit scratched, and my eyes may be red from crying, but I manage to show a confident smirk.

"You wanna stick it to them?" I ask. "Well then, looks like we have something in common. I'm Sickle. Wanna be friends?"

"Friends in the Arena? Now I've seen everything," Peeta remarks. "Then again, I'd spoken of romance in the Arena, and, well..."

Peeta looks grim. Really depressed. Not that I blame him, of course. Katniss was from his home and he was attached. It's why I don't want to get attached to the people in here with me… not that it really helped me feel less awful when I killed Rue. And now I just asked if Peeta wanted to be my friend. Maybe I have more in common with this boy I've just met than the obvious dislike we have for the Capitol?

"...Sorry to hear about Katniss," I eventually say. What else can I say?

"Yeah," Peeta replies. What else can _he_ say? "Been alone ever since I ran away from the Bloodbath, like Haymitch said. I'm alive, so his advice worked. I… I tried to… no, no, sorry."

We're silent for a minute, awkwardness in the air. I pick up my knife again, spinning it in my hand.

"You feel like shit," I note. "Well, good news Peeta. I feel like shit too, and misery shared is halved."

I start walking, and Peeta walks with me. For a while we're silent.

"Where are we going?" Peeta asks.

"I'm not sure," I admit. "I guess somewhere less exposed. Somewhere safer. Somewhere that we won't be an easy pair of targets."

"Sounds good to me. Does such a place exist in the Arena?" Peeta asks, glancing back at the corpse of the Mutt.

"...It's a big Arena," I say, shrugging.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

Well, a surprise to me still, we managed to find somewhere that could count as safer and less exposed. A cave, and one close to a river as well. It's nice, sitting at the mouth of the cave as the sun starts to set and watching the river go by. I love the way the light twinkles on the water.

Though, my mood has not improved very much. Sure, Peeta has been good company… but I can't get Rue out of my head! I didn't see her dying eyes, thankfully, but I heard her dying breath. Her dying choke. That's a sound that'll stay with me until I die… I can't wait even _that_ long!

So, I just sit here sulking. Sometimes I wipe away some tears, but either way I'm not saying much. Neither is Peeta, not that I mind. Every now and then I glance back to look at where he is, sitting at the back of the cave with his spear across his lap. Like me, he seems to be deep in thought.

"You're quiet," Peeta eventually says.

"Yeah… guess I am," I reply. "It's been a long day. ...I think the Games are turning me into a monster. Or maybe I always was, and this was just the final push. Everybody kills, or gets killed, in here… I just thought it'd be easier to deal with the guilt than this. I thought I'd be stronger. Less… weak."

"You're only fourteen, right?" Peeta says, sitting up as I turn around to face him. "You shouldn't feel bad about not being able to deal with the feelings right after they happen. In fact, some eighteen year old's don't… years later, some still don't."

"Well, you've never killed anybody," I say, trying not to show too much emotion. "Maybe you don't have even have to."

"I haven't, and I'd hope not to," Peeta agrees. "I'm just saying, you shouldn't feel like you're weak. You feeling bad about killing Cato makes you human, and kinda makes me feel safer being in this cave with you."

I'm silent. Peeta doesn't know that I killed Rue, he only knows of my public display where Cato bit it. Of course, I feel bad for that. Peeta doesn't eye me with any scorn, but would he if he knew about my second kill? Or, third if Glimmer counts… yeah, she probably does.

"It's not just Cato," I manage to say, ashamed.

"...Who else?" Peeta asks, looking unsure. "That kid from Four?"

"No, that was Clove's work… mostly," I reply. No point really talking about Marina's role in it. That doesn't effect us. "Yesterday I sort of killed Glimmer… I say sort of because I threw a sickle at her when she was up on the tail of the Cornucopia, and while I missed she recoiled and then fell head first and..."

I trail off, silently sliding a finger past my throat. Peeta just nods, as though used to this. Well, he is sixteen, and District Twelve has never won in his lifetime. I guess he'd be used to death. I wonder, does Gimmer being a Career who wanted to cause bloodshed make it easier for him to take in? I'm not sure.

"...There's one other," I admit. "The reason I was crying by that tree, and why that Mutt got the jump on me."

My arms tremble as I try to get the words to pass my lips.

"That little girl from Eleven? I..." that's all I can bring myself to say.

Peeta's eye widen for a moment, but my gaze rests upon his spear. His next action will determine my own. I just hope it's nothing lethal. I've had enough murder for one day. I must wonder what the staff of the orphanage are thinking as they see more… a bit beyond a 'naughty little redhead', I bet. Maybe a 'murderous flame head'?

"...I see," Peeta says, looking to the side. "So, you killed her? How? Drawn out?"

"No! No! Hell no!" I exclaim, horrified at the accusation. "...A quick stab in the back. Not that it makes it better."

"I mean, yeah… you killed her, and that won't change. That's something you have to live with, or die thinking about," Peeta agrees. Somehow though, I find his lack of comforting and gentleness welcome. He's treating me as a big girl, not some kid. No sugar-coating. "But, you can at least say you didn't gain pleasure from it, and you made it quick. There's only one Victor and twelve year olds, and thirteen year olds come to think of it, have never won… so, I think you sent her out in about the nicest way possible, short of killing her while she was sleeping. I will say you are right to feel bad though."

I nod as I listen to Peeta's words. I can find a bit of comfort in them. He's not pleased, he's not pissed… he's just talking. I never thought I miss actually talking to people. Not like I did it much back in Nine, but I never did quite realise how nice it is to talk to somebody and not feel overly concerned that they'll cut you to pieces.

"...Thanks Peeta," I eventually say. "I'll just live with it. And you know, fourteen year olds have won..."

"What would you do if you won? Got a nice family to go home to, a boy maybe?" Peeta asks. He seems interested… odd, as we've only just met really. "...Sorry. I've been by myself since the start, and with Katniss… I just miss talking to people."

"I don't mind talking," I say. "Well, no, I don't really have anybody back in Nine. No family, or at least none I've ever heard of. No special guy. I'm a lone wolf. And unlike those Wolf Mutts the Cappy's seem to love so much, I'm a lone wolf who is alive."

"Didn't seem so wimpy when it had you pinned," Peeta remarks.

"Stop talking!" I exclaim, a pout no doubt appearing on my face. "...Yeah, I'm a loner. I never let myself be attached to anybody. It's just easier that way. Not having to care and be miserable when they die. Just looking out for me. I mean… you loved Katniss, and now you're hurting a lot. If you hurt, your odds get lower."

Peeta sits listening. He looks at me for a few moments. Just looking.

"You make a point," he agrees. "It can be hard to love and care, and be attached. But, if you care for others, they'll care for you. Katniss is gone and it _**hurts**_ , I can't deny it. But back home… she was loved. She didn't know the effect she could have on people. I bet everybody is paying respects to her even now. And when you're in here, the only outside contact from Sponsors… well, it can be nice to have people who care."

Peeta rummages in his pocket for a moment and takes out a cookie, still wrapped.

"Paid for in full by one Delly Cartwright," Peeta explains. "It's not always bad to have people care about you, and you about them."

We're silent for a while, the sun setting more and casting a honey orange glow over the forest.

"...Maybe," I eventually reply. "I just can't afford to think that way."

"Can't afford?" Peeta says, curious. "I'd ask if you're hiding something, but we're tributes. We're always hiding something. If not our position, then maybe some thoughts and feelings. Big plans when you win?"

Oh yes…

"Perhaps," I reply. "With the Victor winnings, I could do so much. Perhaps buy some Capitol Real Estate."

Peeta just gives me a look, ever so slowly raising an eyebrow.

"...I dunno, it was on an episode of Fiona and Lawrence," I shrug, trying to quell the awkwardness. "Long way to go until then. Eleven of us left."

"Yeah, and some of them are Careers," Peeta says. "Though, I've not really been keeping track of who is alive, and I've not seen anybody since the Bloodbath. Well, the boy from Four briefly ran past me but he didn't see me. Other than that, I've been alone."

"Urrgh! _Lucky_!" I exclaim, throwing up my arms. Not sure why, honest. "I've come across everybody! I don't even want to know what the odds of it are, because I've somehow gone and done it. I've crossed paths with everybody, and they've done the same with me. For a girl who likes to be alone, I attract a lot of people… maybe I'm prettier than I thought?"

Peeta has moved over to me, looking curious. His spear is still in his hand, though I don't feel bothered. Only an idiot goes around the Arena without their weapon in hand.

...Yes, I _am_ aware I just called myself an idiot given my close call with the Mutt earlier. That was the point!

"Do you know where the others are right now?" he asks me, looking hopeful. "It'd help to have some idea, so we won't get ambushed by them."

I pause, thinking this over. I count on my fingers and trace in the dirt a bit. Yeah, I can picture where some of them are now.

"Miller, the boy from my District, will be by the Cornucopia. He's the guard for the Careers, but he's not loyal to them," I begin, taking out some of my food from my backpack and hearing it out between us as I talk. "The main Career pack is just Marvel, Clove and Tamora, the Girl from Six. Clove's in charge and wants to cut me up."

"...You don't seem too freaked out over that," Peeta says, listening intently.

"I'm a big girl," I say, shrugging. "They might be out hunting right now. Marina, Girl from Four, was with them before but now she's ditched them and will be anywhere they are not. Thresh is in a huge wheat field that-a-way and will probably kill me on sight after that taser to the face this morning. Long story. Callico, I'm not sure, but he's alone and… even in a leg cast, his odds were level with Cato. No idea how that boy got so tough..."

"He was a volunteer, right? Funny thing is, nobody at the Reaping Recap even looked surprised. They seemed… proud. Guess we'll never know though," Peeta says, before counting silently for a moment. "How about the pair from Ten? They're alive, but where are they?"

"I have no idea," I reply, thinking of Rammy and Sable and how the former plans to die for the life of the other. "But they're travelling together. They're a couple, you know? Rammy, the boy, intends to die for Sable if it comes down to them both. Another reason why caring and being attached hurts."

Peeta is silent.

"...I can relate to how he feels," Peeta replies. "Had it ended up as me and Katniss, I'd have done no different."

A silence rises. What do I say now? I'm not truly sure.

"Are they dangerous, if they came across us?" Peeta asks.

"Rammy has an axe, and he's very strong. I think we'll need to be very careful of him. Leave it to somebody else," I say, wary. "He's strong as a bull, I bet."

"Right. What about Sable?" Peeta continues. "I don't know anything about her. She said she won't kill in her interview, but then again so did Johanna."

"Honestly, I think she's the one we should fear the least. I ran from the Careers and jumped off a cliff to save them. Knocked myself out. And, well, Sable found me and while Rammy got food for us, she fixed me up. She has zero intent to fight or kill… in fact, she doesn't even seem to want to so much as hold a weapon," I say, laying against the wall of the cave. "She's a pacifist."

"...She's gonna die then," Peeta says, sighing. "Nobody ever wins the Hunger Games without killing at least one person."

"Guess I'm doing alright then," I say quietly. "Sable could win, if she makes it an indirect kill. Just lure the last sucker left to the forcefield at the edge and do what Haymitch did. Trick the person into throwing their weapon at it, and have it deflect back at them to kill them. It's technically not murder."

"...Wait, Haymitch did what?" Peeta asks, sitting up.

"You never saw his Games? Like, a rerun or a video or something?" I ask, puzzled. I'd thought all the Games were free to rent from the libraries of any District. Hardly anybody does, of course, but it's an option. "But he's your only Victor. Well, only living Victor anyway."

"He never talks about it. Nobody ever asks him," Peeta says simply. It's all the explanation needed really… few non-Careers would want to talk about what happened in the Arena, after all.

I nod, and for a while we're silent.

"So, got a plan for tomorrow?" Peeta asks. "Beyond stay alive, I mean."

Peeta has a point. We can't just sit here and do nothing. Either we'd possibly get found, or perhaps the Gamemakers might try to kill us in a trap. A trap no doubt pretty high on the agony-tier. Beyond those corrosive giant slugs a few years back, even. Ewww. But what is there to do? I'm not gonna go looking for trouble and strife.

Seriously, why should I? It keeps finding me anyway. But we will need a plan of something to do…

"...Wanna make a boat?" I ask. "I think I might have a plan. Mostly it just involves a boat and the lake by the Cornucopia right now, but you better believe I'll think of more than just step one soon enough."

"Sure it's a good idea?" Peeta asks. "...Wait, you'll do it anyway, right?"

"Naturally," I say, smirking. "Things like rules and what the Capitol idiots think is acceptable never stopped me before. Besides… nobody could reach us on open water. Not without us seeing them coming long in advance, anyway."

Peeta considers this.

"That's a good point," he agrees. He then pauses. "...But I do hear somebody outside."

We quickly tighten our hold on our weapons and look out of the cave. We peer from the edges, of course – less chance of being spotted - and look to see who it is. It's not just one person, but rather two. Rammy and Sable are walking along the riverside, and seem to be paying no attention to us, or our cave. I can see both look a little wounded too… a Mutt, perhaps?

"You alright?" Rammy asks his girlfriend.

"I'll live. For another day at least," Sable replies, holing Rammy's free hand. The one without the axe. "Thanks for getting rid of them."

"Takes more than birds with bladed wings to beat the pair from Ten," Rammy says, chuckling confidently. "...So somebody died. I know, you don't like to hear of it, but… nine left. We're over halfway there."

"I guess that is a good thing," Sable concedes. "I'm just worried. Both for who it was, and what their final moments were like, and… the closer we get to the end, the closer to..."

Sable trails off, trembling a little. If they did make the top two, Rammy dies and he's said so himself. She lives, but at the cost of her lover's sacrifice. To be loved that much by somebody. It sounds nice, but a big cause for pain. Though if I am going to get out of here, Sable will need to die at some point.

"We'll make the best of our time together until then. It's still gonna be a while," Rammy says quickly. "...Take care of my family's ranch, would you?"

"Always," Sable assures, standing on her tiptoes for a moment to kiss Rammy on the cheek. "Until then, let's just… think about us. And find a place to sleep as well. See anywhere nice… well, maybe not nice so much as good enough?"

"There's a cave there," Rammy says. Oh boy, this will be awkward. "I don't trust it though. It could collapse, and maybe there's a Mutt in it. Or worse, other Tributes. Let's move on."

"Good idea," Sable agrees. "And the more distance we get over the Careers, the better. If they find us it may be two in one. Group kills attract sponsors, so they could be hunting us right now..."

"Don't worry," Rammy says gently. "You keep me all healed up, and I'll protect you from all manner of harm. C'mon, let's keep going. Not too far from the river though, we're running low on water as it is."

"And bandages," Sable adds. "We're a great team though. We can do this. We _can_."

"Never change," Rammy says, fondly.

The two are soon out of my hearing range and then my sight, and I can no longer eavesdrop. I wonder when they'll be separated by death. Moreso I wonder which one will bite it first, assuming they don't die at the same time. Sable would be even more harmless without Rammy… though if Sable died, I have no doubt whatsoever Rammy would become full of _**rage**_ and really turn into a danger. I certainly wouldn't want to be unlucky enough to have to cross paths with him more than once in such a case, assuming I lived past the first encounter.

"Well, looks like we know where they are," I eventually say.

"And we know where not to go in the morning," Peeta adds. "...It's sad, isn't it? Them being stuck here together."

I wordlessly nod. I know what Peeta means, and Peeta himself knows it all to well. Imagine, if he had confessed his love to Katniss in the further past before the Games, maybe they'd have been in the same nasty position? Though if they had, Peeta might have become raging in grief and not bothered to save me.

Maybe it's better they didn't pair up before the Games? Selfish as that may be to say.

* * *

 **(A while later…)**

* * *

It's night once more, the fake stars lighting up the fake night sky. Just as lovely a night as before, but at least this time I might not wake up held against a tree for accidental trespassing. Pfft, trespassing in a wheat field? What is this place, District Nine? I wish.

I better never cross paths with Thresh again though after this morning's display. He'll kill me. Though if he learns it was me who killed Rue - and he'll know she's gone when the Anthem starts any time now - then he might find a way to do something even worse to me.

Peeta is sleeping at the back of the cave, and I'm taking first watch. I honestly didn't feel very tired when we decided watch order, and if Peeta is asleep it means he won't be able to watch me cry when Rue's face is shown. I don't like people seeing me cry.

"Might need to get more food tomorrow," I say to myself, looking at the empty packets of food. "Maybe Miller could spot me something, or we can hunt. I'd eat anything if I had to. Hmmm..."

And suddenly, an idea has occurred to me. A few kids in Nine have thought the same thing, and now here I am thinking it too.

"Are Mutts edible?" I ask out loud. "Next time the Control Room Monkeys send one at me, maybe I should cook it?"

Well, cooking time with Muttations is gonna have to wait. Looks like the Anthem is starting, casting the unnatural glow over the dark forest. I just look at the Capitol Seal coldly. Who even designed it anyway? It looks like something an edgy teen would think up, if you ask me.

I'm not keeping my face steely for long though. I can feel my chest hurting and my eyes watering as Rue's face fills the sky. I put her up there.

"I'm sorry..." I whisper.

I maintain my gaze at Rue's face until the Anthem ends and all goes quiet. Just the slow flowing of the river and the distant chirping of crickets remains. That, and my sobbing.

I'm sobbing quietly for over an hour, maybe longer, though I manage to stop by the time I wake Peeta to take watch. He can tell I've been crying, but doesn't press me. That's good, as I'm not sure what I'd say in response. I never talk about me feelings, and I can't risk getting attached.

As I settle down and try to find some form of comfort I really do feel like shit. But, feeling like shit and being a Tribute usually go hand in hand. I'm not alone feeling this way. I'm probably gonna kill again, realistically, so I can't just become a gloomy mess and give up on trying. What will getting killed in the Arena do for me? It'll stop me being able to do anything as a Victor. Like stop this damn cycle from happening every year.

Twenty three to save so many thousands. Rue may be dead, all because of me, but there are so many other girls and boys like her who can be saved and never put into some other Arena that I don't want to imagine. I just have to be the Victor.

I'll feel like crap for one night, and tomorrow its back on the offensive. Both against the Careers and just plain offending the Capitol. I just hope my dreams won't be haunted by Rue.

* * *

 **END OF DAY 4…**

* * *

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES**

 ** **Marvel (District 1 Male)****

 ** **Clove (District 2 Female**** ** **)****

 ** **Marina (District 4 Female)****

 ** **Tamora (District 6 Female)****

 ** **Callico (District 8 Male)****

 ** **Miller (District 9 Male)****

 ** **Sickle (District 9 Female)****

 ** **Rammy (District 10 Male)****

 ** **Sable (District 10 Female)****

 ** **Thresh (District 11 Male****

 ** **Peeta (District 12 Male)****

* * *

 ** **THE FALLEN****

12th- ****Rue (District 11 Female)**** -Stabbed in the back with a knife by Sickle.

13th- **Glimmer (District 1 Female)-** Broke neck after falling off the Cornucopia

14th- **Cinder (District 5 Female)-** Impaled herself on Marvel's spear, and then stabbed in the heart by Clove.

15th- **Urchin (District 4 Male)-** Cleaved with a serrated sword by Marina, and then stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

16th- **Katniss (District 12 Female)** \- Two knives thrown into her back by Clove.

17th- **Weldar (District 3 Male)** \- Strangled and asphyxiated by Tamora.

18th- **Jason (District 6 Male)** \- Stabbed with a Kukri and then stabbed in the gut by a spear, by Marvel.

19th- **Wood (District 7 Male)** \- Throat slashed with a large cleaver by Glimmer.

20th- **Nettle- (District 7 Female)** \- Stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

21st- **Gadget- (District 3 Female)** \- Struck in the skull with an axe by Marina.

22nd- **Lacey- (District 8 Female)** \- Impaled with a spear by Marvel.

23rd- **Sparky (District 5 Male** )- Knife thrown between the eyes by Clove.

24th- **Cato (District 2 Male)** \- Mines detonated by Sickle before the countdown was over.

* * *

 ** **TRIBUTE NOTES****

 ** **Rue:**** I've noticed in a lot of HG fics it's generally a nasty Career who kills Rue or indeed any 12 year old Tribute, or somebody who isn't close to the front of the action. It's rare that the protagonist actually does the deed, but that's exactly what has happened. By Sickle's blade, Rue is dead. Shown as sweet kid, but not much more in this timeline… though, despite being dead, Rue will certainly haunt Sickle for some time to come. In what ways remain to be seen.


	5. 5: The One with the Rain

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

 **Note:** Here we are with another update! A fun chapter to write, and one that keeps things moving, I hope. With the story getting into the thick of things now, it's becoming easier to write, so… fingers crossed for quicker updates! Not much more to say, so let's begin~.

* * *

It's sunrise when I open my eyes. I sit up, yawning a little as I stretch out. Depressingly, I've slept in worse places than a cave. So, no complaints yet. Of course, I bet that'll be changing soon. Eleven of us still live, and as the numbers fall the danger and pain will always rise. At least the weather looks pretty good. I can't help but smile, feeling the rays of the artificial sun upon my face.

I smile a lot less when I see that Peeta is gone. None of my gear has been taken – woe betide him if it was! - but there is a very clear absence of one baker's son in the cave. I'm quickly on my feet, taking my chain whip into my hand and putting away the knife for a while, as I make my way out of the cave.

"Peeta? Peeta!" I call, slinging on my backpack.

"Over here!" he replies, not far away.

I can see him over there, just by the river. Looks like he was just filling up his water… a good move, as nobody wants to die of thirst, or watch it happen to somebody. I mean it too, as I think the Capitol considers it one of the most 'boring' ways for Tributes to die. As I make my way over, he greets me with a nod.

"Sleep well?" he asks.

"Well enough, I guess," I reply, shrugging. "I'd prefer a bed, but you know… not in a position to beg, nor would I want to beg. So, how long have you been up"?

"Just ten minutes or so. I may have fallen asleep on watch for an hour, sorry" Peeta replies, screwing the cap on his water bottle. "You didn't miss anything. Just the sun rising. No signs of any Arena Events on the way."

"Finally, some good news," I remark, sighing happily. "Events suck."

As we refill our water, I can't help but think of two things. First, that Peeta fell asleep for an hour and left us exposed. That could've killed us! It would only take a moment to wake me up, geez! I feel irked, really, but should I tell him so? He's under no obligation to stick with me… and if I tell him to buzz off, would he spear me? I'd rather not risk that. In the end, for at least a day or two, it'll help to have somebody on my side besides myself.

The second thought is, of course, Arena Events. Of course, you have the typical Mutt attacks towards the end of most Hunger Games, and a Feast is a good bet to have happen as the days go by and the tribute number drops a lot… but these events are not quite the same. Sometimes a massive tsunami will strike. Sometimes a gigantic swarm of Tracker-Jackers descends upon everybody with stinging and death following on. There could be a huge fire in half of the Arena, or perhaps a massive earthquake. There was even one year where rocks fell from the sky and everybody died… well, except the winner who was half-dead anyway. In short, I sure hope none of this gets thrust upon us this year. I may be scrappy, but I do not like my odds with something like this. After all, the Gamemakers are already angry at me.

"So, what's our plan?" Peeta asks. "Besides staying alive. That's implied."

"I said we're gonna build a boat. So, we're building a boat," I reply. "Just a raft, nothing too fancy. I'll tell you more on the way. C'mon, lets go!"

And so, we're up and heading off the opposite way of the river that Rammy and Sable went last night. After all, this way leads to the lake by the Cornucopia, and why cross paths with other Tributes right now? No reason to.

"Wait, stop," I say. "Check this out..."

I kneel down, seeing something on the ground. Something that does not belong by the side of a river. Something that stands out. It's a small scrap of cloth. Not just that, but it's rust red.

Rust red is the colour of District Two!

"Shit, Clove came this way!" I mutter, grimly. "She could've found us. She was _so close_..."

To his credit, Peeta looks instantly apologetic. That guilt could be seen a mile away… aw bugger, are the Careers that near?!

That's enough paranoia Sickle, I tell myself.

"I won't fall asleep next time," Peeta promises. Not sure why, but from his voice alone I believe him. "I won't."

"Good," I manage to say. "Because, if Clove was here then that means the whole Career Pack was probably here as well! The fact they, and the pair from Ten, didn't find us is a miracle! If they'd looked at the cave just right then-!"

I'm cut off as a cannon fires, echoing around the Arena. We're silent for a moment, looking around us. Even the river seems quieter after that cannon.

A distance away up the river, maybe a few miles, a hovercraft is now descending. Me and Peeta exchange a glance. I suspect he's thinking the same thing I am. Somebody else is dead, and that means ten are left. The Careers went that way… I think it must have been Rammy or Sable. But, only one cannon fired. I'd have expect both of the couple would have been killed. Could a Career have fallen?

"...As I was saying, if they'd looked at the cave just right then _that_ would've been us," I say, my expression grim. "...Another step closer to home for you, right Peeta?"

"And for you," he replies, nodding. "So, who do you think it was?"

"...Sable," I say, frowning. "She helped me, you know. If it was her, well, given she did show me kindness it's hard to not feel _something_."

"Yeah," Peeta says. What more is there to say, really?

"...You know what'd be nice?" I say as we walk along the river. "Oh, off-topic, watch out for fish mutts. One tried to jump me."

"Thanks for the tip," Peeta nods, moving further from the side of the river. "So, what'd be nice?"

I drop my voice to a whisper, a sly smirk on my face. Seeing a camera in a bush beside us, I give it a wink.

"It'd be nice if we could have a Hunger Games where the Capitol children got put into it. See how they like it," I say, smirking in spite of how this will no doubt get me into trouble. "I'm torn whether the parents would be wailing, or somehow feel honoured their kid got put into the Arena. Could go either way, really."

Peeta flinches, glancing around for any danger with his spear at the ready.

"Sickle, if you say things like that you'll get yourself killed. Maybe me too," he hisses. He looks angry.

I can't help but feel uneasy as Peeta glares at me. I suddenly feel a lot smaller, and I'm not that tall to begin with. Like I'm a scolded child or something.

"Sorry, I just thought it was a fun idea. Not like we're not all thinking it anyway," I mumble, looking to the side. "Sorry..."

As we walk onwards – now further away from the river than we were – I can't help but feel uneasy. I felt annoyed at Peeta for falling asleep on watch, and he's annoyed at me for running my cheeky mouth a bit. I should try and behave myself a little, or we might be coming to blows, or worse. Just what the Capitol wants.

I mean, eventually Peeta will need to die for me to get out of here, but I don't want to hurt him now. I don't like the idea of doing it later on either, and not just because the baker boy is stronger than me.

"Just don't provoke them anymore than you already have," Peeta says "Just… don't, ok? It's not worth your life. Or mine."

The worst part is, as much as I hate those in charge and love to make fun of the, Peeta is right. Sure, I might be able to stir up a riot in the Districts and cause a bit of early rebellion, but what would it matter if I get myself killed before I can really pour some fuel on the fire as a Victor? Maybe it's better to hold my tongue for now.

"...Fine," I say, apologetic. "But if they were gonna do something they'd have done it by now, right?"

Peeta moves closer to me. For a moment I flinch, thinking he might hit me, but instead he talks near silently.

"For the record, I am in full agreement with you," he says very quietly. "Just, be more subtle."

Peeta then looks up, and yells in alarm.

"Also, run!" he exclaims, sprinting ahead.

I don't pause before I dash after him. If Peeta is running, I should as well. What could it be behind us? The Career Pack? Something worse? The lack of knives, spears or darts in my back make me think it's not them, so I quickly glance back over my shoulder.

The sight of a gigantic Ant Muttation has me running much faster in an instant. Dammit! Damn my big mouth! I knew they'd try and make an example of me, but I figured if Peeta was here they may hold off a bit. After all, the audience appeared to love him before he went in here. Generally the favourites of the Capitol citizens get a little favour the rest don't have… naturally, it appears Peeta has none right now.

"Quick, run through the trees!" Peeta yells. "Go through gaps it can't fit through! We can run away while it slows down!"

"Good plan!" I respond to him. "Oh, wait, I have an idea! I can get us more sponsor funds!"

Peeta, even as we sprint from the shrieking Mutt behind us, looks coy.

"How?" he asks me.

"A few good one-liners. The audience like them," I say, leaping over a log, stumbling. "Ack!"

I'm grateful for the way the Gamemakers placed the trees. After all, the Ant Mutt had crashed into a tree before it could get me. I chuckle as I try to keep up with Peeta… gotta say, he's faster than I expected him to be.

"Damn, that Mut-Ant nearly chomped me!" I exclaim as I duck under a low hanging branch. If I'm degrading myself with quips, may as well do another. "It almost ripped my p-Ants off!"

Peeta groans loudly. He sounds almost pained… I mean, sure, the jokes are bad but are they really that terrible? Mutts hurt worse than words.

"Seriously!?" he exclaims. "I wonder if the Mutt might be the less painful fate here..."

"You won't feel so bad once we get sponsored something good," I reply, panting. "Oh, my chest! It hurts! Aaaahhhh!"

I may not be weak, exactly, but I have my limits. I'm on the younger end of the spectrum, and not an outdoors expert. I'm tiring out, and fast. Even weaving through the hard parts of the trees won't keep me ahead of this thing for long. Already Peeta is starting to pull ahead of me – how is he so fast? - and I'm starting to fall behind. If I fall much further, I'll be falling into the jaws of that Mutt, chewed to bits.

Somehow, screaming in terror has me speeding up more than when I ran silently. Speeding right into a trap that is. I barely stop myself in time before a tree falls down in front of me. Peeta is on the other side, and suddenly the tree grows spikes. No doubt a little 'gift' from the Gamemakers. I shriek as I turn around, looking up as the Muttation towering over me, aggression in its eyes.

"I've had enough of these scary ANT-ics!" I wail, taking a step back, I scream, feeling the spikes on the tree spike my ass. "Ow! Peeta, help!"

But I know Peeta can't, not really. He's too far away… or, if he's still here, he doesn't have the weapons to take on this beast. It's up to me, but my knives, chain whip and taser won't be enough. So what can I do? I can't run past it.

But… can I run under it? Or, do that and also lure it into a trap?

"Just act and do what comes natural," I tell myself. "Oi! Seneca! Before I die I just want to say, your tree traps were fucking awful! Like, did you _**really**_ expect them to kill anybody, dumbass?! Even an outer District gal like me got away from them! Nyeh!"

I hear a cracking. No doubt Seneca, the Head Gamemaker, intends for a tree to crush me once the Mutt has chewed me up. That's all the cue I needed, though. With a cry I lunge forwards, under the large Muttation and sprint out behind it. It's tall, horrifying… but, has a big distance between it's body and the ground. The price of having those massive legs to hold it up and make it look so fearsome.

"Out of my way!" I yell, fleeing from the snarling ant and the tree trap.

As I hear a gross splat sound I screech to a halt and look behind me. The Ant Mutt lays crumpled in a heap, not even twitching. The large tree that has smashed it's head may have something to do with this. I just laugh, and laugh, giggling in near madness as I let myself flop down to the ground.

"Thanks Seneca!" I say, waving to the sky. "Boy, that was a close one..."

As I get back up and sway a little from the fright I had, I hear a crashing. Luckily, it's just Peeta. He looks at the Ant Muttation, then looks at me. He's silent.

"I know, crazy huh? They used two traps to get me, and one trap killed the other," I remark. "That'll bring in a lot of ratings, right?"

"I was just wondering if you were going to make another Ant pun," Peeta says, unable to hide his amused smile.

"Nah, too lazy," I say, smirking as I get my knife back in my hand. "C'mon, lake and Cornucopia are… that-a-way. Let's build that boat. Trust me, this is gonna be good."

"You really think so?" Peeta asks. "What if there's Mutts in the water?"

"Then we do not go in the water," I say. "That's why we have a boat. Plus, we can use life-vests or something. Cornucopia might have them, and if the Careers are still over yonder, they'll have left Miller to guard. He might let us have a few things the Careers won't miss, and would they care about a life vest? One and Two aren't much for swimming."

Peeta nods, and we're on the move again, though this time I keep my mouth shut. I don't want a second Ant Mutt, if one exists, to be put into the Arena with us. I'm not the kind of Tribute who would see it and run away screaming until the Mutt was withdrawn – I would fight it if I had to, and sure enough I got it crushed – but the less I see of this kind of Mutt, the better.

I can only wonder, though, what the Gamemakers are thinking right now. No doubt fury that I not only escaped the Mutt, but that I got them to kill their Mutt with their own trap I goaded them to use. I bet they're watching me closely right now as I walk to where the lake and Cornucopia are. They might have a new plan to kill me by the time I am there.

Well then, Mr Crane, let our personal Games begin. The Tributes shall fight their Game, and we'll fight with our own. Let's see who lives longer.

Because, I can't help but think, if I piss off the higher-ups a bunch and win… Seneca might die before I do. I think a few Head Gamemakers have gone that way before. I'd wonder why any of them still take on the job, but I guess the luxury seems worth it to them.

"Hey Sickle?" Peeta says after a few minutes.

"Yeah?" I reply.

"You know, you may be the youngest Tribute still alive… but you sure are independ-ant," he says, smirking.

This time, I'm the one groaning and complaining. Not that I don't deserve it if I was truly making Peeta put up with puns that awful. What a monster I must be!

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

It was a longer walk than I expected, but we made it to the lake. The sun is still high in the sky, so there's plenty of time left to get things done before the day goes by and the Careers return. As I expected, only Miller was by the Cornucopia and he gave me a few things. Some stuff I'd wanted for myself, and Peeta -energy bars and the like- while other stuff I intend to throw away.

"Why get rid of those knives and the spear?" Miller had asked me.

"Because if they're gone, the Careers can't use them to kill us," I had told him.

And so, I'm on my way back to the side of the lake dragging a spear lazily with one hand and holding a small bag I filled with several knives in my other. I already put the gear I'm keeping for myself where Peeta is so it won't get mixed up with the rest. Wouldn't want that to happen.

"Peeta, how's the boat coming along?" I say as I approach him.

"Well enough," he tells me. "I'm gonna need help getting these logs properly tied together. I got some done, but we're gonna need to speed up."

"No worries, I got some rope in my backpack," I say, kneeling down and dropping off my looted goods. "C'mon, I'll help."

I take the rope out and use it to start binding the logs together tightly. Maybe I can't sleep in the trees without falling now, but I wasn't gonna try it again anyway. No doubt the tree would've 'accidentally' fallen over and crushed me. Anyway, the rope works like a charm for wha we want and soon the logs Peeta gathered are all tied together as we need them.

It's a raft, and one that doesn't fill me with dread to look at either.

"So, into the water with it?" Peeta says.

"Yep," I say.

We work together to push the raft into the water. I get on first with our gear – it holds the weight fine – and then Peeta joins me. Slowly, we begin to float out from the bank and outwards to the deeper areas of the lake using some thick branches as oars, of sorts.

"So, what's our plan?" Peeta asks.

"Well, this for starters," I say, emptying out the stolen knives into the water where they quickly sink. I pass Peeta the only one I kept. "A gift for you, sir."

"Thanks," Peeta says, taking the knife and looking it over. "Why did you do that? Kind of a waste."

"That, and _this_ -" I say as I toss away the spear which also sinks. "-are part of the plan, Peety! Get rid of the weapons those bloodthirsty Careers are best with so they have less chance of killing us. We can't use them, but they cannot either."

"They could be sponsored more," Peeta says cautiously. "It will happen."

"Maybe, but Careers tend to lose weapons every year as time goes by. A broken spear from a Mutt, a knife lost during a chase - the usual stuff. Eventually they'll run out, and sponsor prices get really high for weapons. If we get rid of the bulk of what they have, they'd be left defenceless," I say, taking a stolen dart out of my pocket. "And once that happens..."

I toss the dart into the lake, and watch it sink.

"...You'll kill them?" Peeta finishes what I left unspoken.

"That's the plan," I say. "I mean, I've done it before. I don't _like_ it, but they'd kill me as well and draw it out too. I'm not making it easy for them, no way."

I turn to Peeta, trying to look tough.

"I'm tough as nails," I say, balling my hands into fists.

Peeta is silent for a moment. He looks away and I hear something I am sure is snickering. Is… is he laughing at me?! That… boy!

"I know this is probably not what you want to hear, but… when you get all tough like that and make that angry face, you look adorable," he says, chuckling. "Not to doubt you, as you did kill Cato before the Games began, but with you being the youngest and near smallest Tribute, it's hard to feel intimidated by you."

"Urrrrghhh, you're impossible Peeta!" I yell, huffing as I cross my arms. "I have to be tough, and be seen as tough. How am I to win otherwise? Being the cute little one? Well, the girls from Three, Eight and Eleven were cute, and so was the boy from Four, and now they're dead. Cuteness won't win, pal!"

And yet, Peeta is still laughing.

"I'm sorry, I really am," Peeta says, lightly splashing some water on his face to try and calm himself down. He looks at me, trying to keep a straight face. "I respect you as an equal Sickle. Age doesn't factor here, and I don't mind letting somebody younger than me lead. I guess it's just, most fourteen year olds I've met back home, or seen in other Hunger Games… they don't really act like you. Going on the hunt, going after people, having such tenacity… it's all impressive stuff, though when you match it to your pouty expressions and you being shorter than most, well… you can see why I can't help but chuckle a little."

"I'll cut you if I have to," I say in warning. Of course, it's hardly a threat, because now I'm snickering as well. "Why do you make it so hard to get angry at you?"

"I have a way with people. You saw my interview," Peeta says, smirking. For a moment there, he looked absolutely devious. "So, that's the Career's stuff dumped. Should we get more of it?"

"Yeah, alright. Maybe they won't notice a second spear vanishing?" I reply, picking up the makeshift oar. "Plus, maybe we could fish. Fish are good."

Peeta doesn't reply. I look at him questioningly, and he nods his head to the bank where we sailed off from. Oh boy, it looks like trouble has arrived. Not that I mind of course, because they're over there, and we are out over here. Even so, I move my backpack in front of me as a shield, just in case.

It's the Career Pack. Marvel has that smug leer on his face –the one that makes him look like a chump, you know which one I mean- and holds his spear tightly. Tamora stands off to the side, a look of impatience and disinterest in her face, from what I can tell from over here. And Clove, she's looking right at me. She looks furious at the very sight of me. They've also gotten Miller to join them, and he stands off from the 'action'. Discreetly, he gives me a thumbs-up. Luckily for him, none of the Careers, or Tamora, notice.

...What the fuck is _that_?!

Well then… guess I know who got killed this morning, don't I?

After all, it's rather hard to not notice Rammy's severed head clipped to Clove's belt. It's like some ghastly, sick trophy. I've heard some Careers of years gone by collected a finger from each of their kills, or the tokens they carried, but a head? A head?! This is just sick… worse part is Rammy's eyes are open, and while he's too far away to look into his dead eyes, I can't help but wonder how Sable would feel if she saw Rammy's head, and looked him in the eyes.

Gee wiz… poor Sable. She must be a mess right now.

"Well, look who it is," Clove says, her tone icy. "Been wondering where you got off to!"

"I didn't have to wonder too hard where you were. That night you camped by the river, I was in the tree above you guys," I reply, sticking my tongue out.

Clove screams a foul word, one any youth of Nine would be smacked for using, and throws a knife at me. It falls short, landing in the water and sinking. That's another one down.

"I see you have the temper of a Career," I call to her. "Too bad you don't have the aim of one!"

"Sickle," Peeta whispers uneasily.

"Trust me," I tell him quietly, before turning back to the Careers. "Want us? Come get us!"

Clove yells throwing two more knives. One misses as the first one did, sinking, while the other hits my backpack. I pluck it out and twirl it, daring to give Clove a sly wink.

"Thanks for the gift!" I say, laughing.

I can see Miller looks amused. He's taking a seat at the top of the bank and is eating from a pack of dried fruit as though it were popcorn. Meanwhile Tamora just shakes her head at Clove's screaming.

"Oh, let me do it," I hear her say as she loads up a dart into her blow-gun.

It doesn't even come near the raft. Tamora looks annoyed, before she laves to the Cornucopia with a grumble. No doubt she's had enough of all this and doesn't want to make herself look dumb to any Sponsors out there.

"Marvel, kill her!" Clove yells, her face looking as red as her jacket.

"On it," he says, smirking smugly as he takes aim with his spear. "One Marvelous kill, coming up!"

Peeta gives me a pained look. I look back at him and shudder.

"I don't know what's worse, a spear to the gut, or the awful pun," I groan.

Marvel throws the spear hard. Clearly, he's not all talk. I doubt anybody could surpass him at spear skill. But, Career or not he's still a kid really, like all of us. The spear doesn't reach us, stopping just short, and sinking.

"I give you ten points for form, but I'll have to remove three of them for the miss," I call, teasing.

I see Marvel looks pissed off now, just like Clove. Miller meanwhile looks like he's having a great time. I have no idea how he's holding back his laughter so easily, because from what I know of Miller he likes it when those in a position of any power look like idiots. And really, how often do you get to see Careers being made to look like fools?

"Oh, you're going down!" Clove yells, about to make her way into the water.

"Clove, stop! They'd stab you before you could get onto the raft," Marvel tells her. "Let's just wait them out, they'll have to come off of there eventually. They'll get hungry."

Marvel sneers at us, seeming confident of this. I respond with a middle finger salute. Now, he doesn't like this - not one bit! - and starts yelling and swearing. I flip him off again. If he can throw, and lose, a second spear it'd really help me out. I can;t help but groan when he doesn't take the bait, his spear staying in his grasp.

"So, uh, how are we gonna get away from them?" Peeta asks. "We can't stay on the raft forever."

"Simple, we row to the far side of the lake," I say, smiling. "Clove and Marvel look pretty angry right now, so we can row while they're distracted. And even if they run to meet us, we just row back. They'd tire themselves out soon enough, right?"

"They could attack us from a range," Peeta says firmly. "Marvel can throw far, Clove can too. They're just some weapons, but not all of them."

"Meanwhile, we've gained sponsor funds for this raid," I assure. "People love to see this kind of stuff. Why, we might be getting a gift any moment now."

Sure enough I hear the beeping that can only be a sponsor. Gently, it drifts down from above and lands in Peeta's arms.

"What you got?" I ask.

"Looks like a blow-gun, like the one Tamora has," Peeta says as he looks over his gift. "Only one dart though."

"Better make it count. We could move nearer to the shore?" I suggest, holding up my 'oar'. "Is it poison?"

Peeta looks through the note that came with the gift, reading it quickly.

"...Nope, that would be too expensive," he replies. "It's sleep formula. One shot, and whoever it hits is gonna be out of it for maybe twelve hours."

"Guess that's our ticket off the lake," I say, looking at the shore.

Marvel stands there, leering at his. Clove by now has gone to the Cornucopia and dragged Tamora over, sending Miller back to guard the supplies. He waves to us as he goes, unnoticed by the Careers. So, that's three we have to deal with… and we can only hit one of them.

"Who should we go for, do you think?" I ask.

"Assuming I hit them, probably Clove. She's the deadliest and on foot I think she'd catch us faster than the other two," Peeta replies, putting the dart into the blow-gun. "We need to get closer."

"Right," I say as I start to row us. "So… we shoot Clove, and make a break for it with all that we've gathered. Good plan. You know, maybe we could get Clove to fall into the water. She's standing on a steep part of the bank. Tamora probably won't try to save her if she fell in the water face-down… Clove would kill her if she got bored enough, anyway. Marvel though, he may. Might make it easier for us to run."

"Well, either she falls in or she won't. Depends on if she falls forwards or backwards," Peeta says, as he takes aim. "Ok, they're gonna see me aiming this. How are we gonna distract them?"

"I could throw a knife at them, keep their focus off of you," I say, taking out one of my knives. "I'm good at getting people mad at me."

"Could you hit them? I never saw you training with throwing knives," Peeta says, looking doubtful.

"I can't throw worth shit," I say. Strange, Peeta looks surprised I swore. Weird. "But _they_ don't know that. I think I can do this. Get ready to fire that dart."

I hold my knife as we drift nearer the shore. It's not exactly made for throwing… but then again, several of Clove's aren't, and she throws them well enough. I might be able to get them to lose their focus. If I hit them, it's just a bonus.

"Hey! Bozos! Say hi to Cato on the other side for me and tell him you failed to avenge him!" I yell.

Marvel looks pissed off, Tamora seems irked while Clove screams in anger. I take that as the moment to throw the knife towards them. Tamora yelps, falling backwards onto her butt while Clove and Marvel take a fast step back. The knife fails to hit them – it just lands on the bank – but it did distract them.

Sure enough, Peeta made use of the distraction and fired the dart. It hits Clove in her knee and I know it pierced her skin. That yelp confirmed it. She yanks the dart out, but she's already swaying – holy **damn** , how fast acting _is_ that stuff? - and in moments she collapses and falls to the water. As Marvel moves to try and stop her from drowning, our raft reaches the bank, more or less.

"Let's go-go-go!" I yell, sprinting up the bank and grabbing up my knife as I run to the forest.

Peeta follows me quickly. Marvel yells foul words at us, but can't throw a spear due to being busy holding Clove up. Tamora tries to make a grab for Peeta, but he elbows her hard which sends her crashing backwards into Marvel.

A sly grin crosses my face as all the Pack struggle in the water for a few moments. As Peeta runs past me into the forest, I grab a fallen pack from the ground a few meters from me. Not sure which Career dropped it, but does it matter? It's mine now!

"Thanks for the loot!" I call to the soaked Careers.

I don't look back. I focus on sprinting away because, soaked and robbed from they may be, they'd kill me if they came into range. I hear Marvel yelling about how 'unmarvelous' this is and how he wants to impale me three times. But me and Peeta, we're gone before he can begin to chase after us. By the time he gets Clove out of the water and sets off after us – if he even does – we'll be long gone.

He'd only impale me twice though? Weak! Might as well do it five times; are you a Career or not, Marvel?

"Think the Careers will use the raft?" Peeta asks.

"If they do, I hope they fall off into deep water," I reply, panting a little. "I tell you one thing, Marina wouldn't bother helping them if they did."

* * *

 **(Later…)**

* * *

We've ran on until we can't anymore, and that's why we've stopped for a break. Right now, we're staked out in a large expanse of the forest. A bit sloped, and spares trees are dotted around, and a lot of greenery as well. I smile as the breeze gently blows through the clearing.

Looking over our gear, it seems doing that little raid was worth out time. Peeta got that sponsor and I'd bet he'll receive more darts soon and I got him that knife as well. We got food – meat and bread mainly – and the Careers are down by a bunch of knives, some darts and a spear. All that, and we're unharmed while Clove is probably still passed out. Not bad, if I do say so myself.

"That went well," I say as I munch on a hastily made meat sandwich.

"They'll be angry though. When they're active again, they'll be putting all their focus on finding us," Peeta warns me. "Let's not do anything reckless."

"Reckless? Me? Never!" I say, giggling as I finishing off the sandwhich. "They won't be as dangerous now though. We took weapons and food from them, and when they're just sitting around at the Cornucopia they won't be racking up much sponsor money. Even if they get given something now, they'll be low on money once only a few of us are left."

"I guess that makes sense. The years where the Careers don't win, its usually when they lose their supplies," Peeta agrees, nodding. He looks over the knife I got him as he speaks. "Somebody else might be getting sponsors though. Not just us and the Pack. Who else was there, again? Sable and, uh, Marina and… who were the other ones?"

"Thresh, and Callico. Boys from Eleven and Eight," I say. Hmm, sky suddenly looks cloudy. "Thresh is at his field. Don't go there. I sure ain't after I tasered his face."

"What," Peeta says flatly.

"And Callico meanwhile came here with higher odds than everybody but Cato while he was in a _leg cast_. That's insane," I say, uneasy. "He stole from the Careers and made it look easy. Watch out for him… Capitol might favour him. Volunteer from Eight with crazy high odds, decent looks and working well by himself… he could Sponsor his way to the win."

"I found it weird on the recaps how, before Callico volunteered, that little twelve year old didn't look even slightly afraid. None of the boys did. How long do you think Callico planned it, and why?" Peeta asks me.

I must admit, that has been on my mind. But, not as much as what I will do once I'm the last one standing.

"I have no idea, but it wouldn't matter even if I did. Whatever his reasons, for one of us to get out he has to die," I say, shortly. "Ten of us left now… wonder who'll be next. In an ideal world it'd be Clove. Too bad Panem is a dump with the Capitol at the top of the garbage pile. Geez though, you saw Rammy's head, right? Cripes, that was sick..."

Peeta nods slowly, looking queasy at the thought. I can only hope Sable didn't see that happen… was Rammy still alive when Clove started cutting? Part of me hopes the Gamemakers kill her in a trap for that, but this isn't like Titus. She's not eating the head. Honestly, I'm kind of grateful for that. The idea of it is just too sick.

"So, what now?" I ask, packing up my stuff. "Careers are that-a-way, so where should we go?"

"Maybe that way?" Peeta shrugs. "Not much we can do when no events are going on, and nobody is near us. Maybe we'll hear a cannon while we walk. One more step towards... home."

I see that pain in Peeta's eyes again. I pat him on the shoulder… wait, why did I just do that? Why am I comforting him? Bad Sickle! Bad! Do not get attached!

"...Not the same without Katniss?" I ask after a while.

"Yeah. More different than you could know," he replies, giving a small nod. "C'mon, let's go."

"Yeah," I say. Nothing more to say, really. "Hmm, looks cloudy."

"We have hoods, we can handle the rain," Peeta says.

"Of course," I reply, putting up my hood. "I like the rain. I mean, rainstorm in a wheat field, and the rainbow right after… beautiful."

Off we go, silent on our way. No idea where we're going, but if we walk around with weapons in hand at least the chances of us being attacked by another Tribute get lower. Two on one, not many would want to risk it.

Even so, as I bring up the rear, I glance back over my shoulder frequently. You can never be too paranoid in the Arena, right?

* * *

 **(Not much later…)**

* * *

It looks like the day is getting on a bit now. The clouds cover a lot of the sky now – strangely, most gather above where me and Peeta are – but I can sorta see the sun beyond the clouds, getting lower in the sky. We'd better find a decent place to settle for the night soon. That, or maybe talk about hunting through the night. A sleeping Tribute is a defenceless Tribute… right?

"It's getting on a bit. We need to find a place to stay," I say to Peeta. "Or, wanna go on through the night? With the Careers kind of out of it for a bit, maybe it'd be a good chance to keep going and get ground over them?"

"I could go a few hours into the night, but we can't go until sunset. Tiredness kills… or, leaves us open to be killed, I guess," Peeta says, looking around the area ahead of us. "Looks like rain though, so let's not go near anywhere steep in case we slip."

"Works me for," I say. As I do, the rain begins to fall. "Well, there we go. Rain. Maybe we could set something up to catch it so we don't have to go find the river again, or get sponsored water and waste our funding?"

"Good idea," Peeta agrees. "Maybe we could- OW!"

Peeta looks at his hand, a red mark now upon his skin. The plants around us sizzle a little as the rain falls upon them, holes being formed in the leaves. I yelp as a raindrop falls right onto my cheek. As it stings, I can see my clothing is starting to react to the rain too.

Shit! Its gotta be some kind of acid rain! Not the normal kind… and here we are, out in the bloody open!

"It's toxic!" I scream as I barrel forwards. "Run!"

Peeta is quickly behind me as we sprint through the woods, yelling and screaming. It hurts, it bloody hurts! Right now it's just a searing stinging I can live with if I have to, but if we don't find shelter soon, it's going to become worse! Much worse. We'd be unable to do much of anything, or maybe we'd die… can't let that happen!

It's not easy though, running along while your skin stings and your cloths are being eaten away by the acidic rain. Especially as a lot of it seems to be gathering over me. Peeta gets it too, but I think I'm getting hit more. Hmmm, clouds all over the Arena and yet it's focused here… well Mr Seneca, let out battle of wits continue.

"Ow! Ack! Crap!" I yell, failing my arms a little. "See any shelter -ow!- Peeta?"

"Nggh! Nothing!" he replies, pained.

"How hard could it be to find shelter in a forest?!" I yell, screaming a moment later.

Very hard. Normally hiding under a tree with many branches and leaves would help, but not with toxic rain. The rain takes out any leaves it touches, like a parasite. No, we'd need a cave. There are probably a few of them in this Arena, but are any near us now? I'm not sure, but damn if I won't try to find one! Ow! Ow!

"Watch out for the log!" I warn Peeta, leaping over it. I land cleanly and keep running, though now I'm starting to feel really sore. "Seneca, you bugger!"

Peeta jumps over it to, keeping pace with me as we run. I don't know how much longer I can keep it up though. The pain…!

I sharply gasp, and scream loudly as few droplets of the rain strike me in the forehead. No, no crying! Mustn't… cry!

"AAAARRRGH!" I hear somebody scream.

That's not Peeta!

I don't get more than a second to react. From my right Marina runs up, almost screaming from the rain, and crashes into Peeta. She'd not been paying attention because of the pain – I can relate, honestly – and she took both of them down. Peeta lays in pain, while Marina rolls down the slope and bashes into a tree. I doubt the roll down there caused her much harm though, but will she get back up again?

"Is somebody there?" I hear another voice from somewhere ahead call. It's distant, but within range. "Over here! There's a cave!"

One sprint and I'll be safe. But, Peeta. He looks like he's hurt himself when he fell down. Only ones getting out… twenty three to save many sounds. I know that, and he knows it too. Just one Victor.

"Come on Peeta, come on!" I say, running to him and helping him back up. "C'mon, this way!"

Why did I help him? I've never felt much closeness to people, just frosty distance And yet, here I am helping Peeta along as fast as I can manage. He mutters repeated thanks as he tries to keep a fast pace. As we go, I can't help but look back where Marina lays, screaming in agony and flailing around on the ground. Her flesh looks red and raw, even from my distance over here. Ouch…

I shake my head. I can't help her without dooming myself, and I was never a hero. Just a girl who wants to be the Victor. I just think a silent prayer of some kind, leading Peeta along while shrieking from the pain.

As Marina's screams become more distant, the calls of the person ahead – a boy, I can now tell – become louder.

"Over here!" he calls. "Wait, no, keep moving, and I'll come help you!"

A few seconds pass before a sort of goldenrod yellow blur runs up and begins helping us along as fast as possible. Our speed has practically doubled. I can barely say a thank you, mainly due to the pain, but I hear the boy say I don't owe any thanks.

"Happy to help," he says. "C'mon, I got a bunch of stuff in the cave you can use. We're almost there!"

A few seconds later, it's all over. We've made it into the cave… and boy, what a cave it is! Supplies are gathered all around. Packs of food and medical gear, a sleeping bag, some trap equipment, some 'extra' weapons. It's a great bounty, and it looks to be equal parts from the Cornucopia and Sponsors.

I drop to my knees, shaking from the burning pain, while the boy gently sets Peeta down at the side of the cave and passes him a bottle. I think it might be painkillers. Letting out a relieved cheer, the boy spins on his heel and lets himself fall down onto a sort of 'throne' make of some cushions.

It's Callico.

"Good thing I was here, right? You guys were almost goners," he says, rummaging through a bag and gently tossing me a bottle. "Rub that on the burns, I _think_ it'll help. I think."

I mumble a thank you, and start applying it. Forehead first, that's where I got it worst. Instantly, relief washes over me. Not a huge amount, but enough that I can think clearly again. Oh, I need that so badly.

Peeta got it worse than me. I silently pass the bottle to him. He raises it in a 'cheers' gesture, and begins to apply the mixture. I can see the relief in his eyes.

A few minutes roll by, each one less horrible than the last. The storm outside is still going on, though now that we're in shelter it's lessened in force a lot.

"AAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!"

Marina's scream came from a fair distance away, but it's shaken all three of us. A few long moments of silence pass, the rain still falling.

"...No cannon," I say to break the silence. Marina must be in pain I don't want to imagine, but she's not dead. Still ten of us left.

"I should go help her," Callico says, putting his hood up.

"No, don't!" I say quickly. "If you go out in that rain, you won't be coming back. It's foolish."

"It's right," he insists.

But, a few seconds pass and Callico sits back down, a grim look on his face.

"I didn't see who the other one was. I didn't hear her until just then. Who was it?" he asks.

"Marina," I reply. "Girl from Four. Has a serrated sword."

 _Stuck her little District Partner with it to avoid her own death_ , I add silently. Not that I'll say it out loud. No reason to do that at all.

"Ouch," Callico mutters. "Never did like rain."

Callico soon perks up though, putting on a smile as he passes out some food. Neither me nor Peeta refuse it. Peeta seems glad for the hospitality, while I… well, I am too, but also this helps save my own supplies. Not _my_ food we're eating.

"So, welcome to Casa De Callico," he says, smiling. "Feel free to stay as long as you want. I have supplies for all situations, and I get good Sponsors. Plus, this cave is safe. Stay a week if you want."

I can't help but feel suspicious. What motive does Callico have here? Peeta seems to notice my doubts of Eight, uh, Callico being sincere and shakes his head.

"Thanks for helping us out there," Peeta says, shaking Callico's hand. "You saved our lives."

"Any time," Callico says, modestly smiling with a little chuckle. "Couldn't just leave you guys to die, or be left barely alive and in agony, could I? Nope."

"But you could have. Maybe even should have," I say, looking off to the side. "Only one may live."

"...I'm not gonna change who I am for the Capitol," Callico shrugs, still smiling. "I figure I can win without murder. Self-defence if I am attacked first, and simply waiting out the rest. Like, I have loads of gear. Sponsors like me. Who needs a blade when starvation kills? I'd rather spend my time exploring and, well, making sure everybody else has a nice final day or two."

I'm silent, trying to process this.

"Or hey, maybe I'm just dumb. Never was good with brainy stuff," Callico adds, laughing. "Rain's gonna be falling for a while, probably. You guys should stay here until the storm stops, or longer if you want."

"...Longer would be nice," I say. "In fact, I think I'm gonna pass out in a few seconds..."

And so, hitting the ground, I do.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

I wake up and quickly sit right up. How long was I out? What's happened in that time?

The storm seems to have ended, no clouds remaining in the sky outside the cave from what I can see. Nightfall has arrived and stars are twinkling.. well, fake stars anyway. My gear is all beside me, still in my backpack, and my wounds feel a lot better. I guess time healed them? Strange.

Peeta is sitting across from me, lightly dozing. I think he's earned the rest. Meanwhile, Callico is at the mouth of the cave, standing guard. He holds a spear in both hands, looking up at the night sky. I guess he's waiting for the Anthem… does he know Rammy is dead?

I can see a sponsor parachute off in the corner… wait, that's got a Nine on it!

"Hey," I say. "Where's my gift?"

Callico looks apologetic. Wait… that weasel! Did he snatch it from me? That snatcher!

"It was medical spray. I would've waited until you woke up, but you looked kinda crappy. I used it on you… well, everywhere that I'd not have to, uh, remove anything to get to the wounds," he says, looking awkward. "Does it feel better?"

As he speaks Callico tosses me the spray. Still plenty left. Now that I'm thinking about it… I feel _so_ much better. Thank goodness.

"...You know, maybe I was too quick to think you were suspicious," I say as I hold out my collar and spray my chest. "...Thanks."

Callico actually looks rather surprised.

"Me, suspicious?" he says. "Now I've really seen everything."

"Seen a guy eat his own head?" I ask, smirking.

"...Clearly, I've not seen everything," Callico notes. "But, why assume so little of me? I did help you guys."

Great, now I feel guilty…

"It's the Hunger Games," I say simply. "And… well, you're a bit of an enigma to me. You carry yourself as the golden boy and offer help despite the fact only one of us will be alive by the end. You saved two people, which never happens. And yet, you tied Cato for the best odds of winning… and you're fourteen, you're from Eight, you randomly volunteered and you scored so high while in a leg cast. Just… _how_? You have to admit, that is very suspicious. None of the other boys looked scared, not even the tiniest twelve year olds."

Callico seems thoughtful. He's thinking what to say… is he hiding something? Though, is he hiding it from me, or the Gamemakers?

"Let's just say I stepped up to help my District quite some time ago," he says, smiling. "Can't say more than that, so..."

Callico taps the side of his nose, winking. Well, now he's _definitely_ hiding something. Then again, like I said earlier… does it matter? He'll be dead by the end, though now I find myself sad at the thought of that.

"You know what sucks?" Callico says after a while.

"What?" I reply.

"Lacey being dead. Man, the laughs we used to have back home," he says, sighing fondly. Though soon his sigh seems forlorn. "I wanted to keep her safe, but… I wasn't fast enough."

"You were fast enough to outpace Marvel at least," I remark. "Nice theft."

"Oh, you saw that? Heh, thanks," Callico says, chuckling. "But yeah, Lacey and me were good friends back home. Shame no female agreed to volunteer, but..."

Callico shakes his head.

"Well, the Velvet Beyond is a better place than Panem anyway," he says. "So, you guys gonna stay with me for a bit, or head off on your own?"

"I'm gonna head off tomorrow. I prefer to work solo, or in a very small group… like, two people," I say. Why can't I look at him as I say this. "Can't speak for Peeta. So, did I miss the Anthem?"

"Nope, but it should start pretty soon," Callico says. "...Do you, uh, know who…?"

"Rammy. Boy from Ten," I say, before gagging. "Clove – the girl from Two - cut off his head and is wearing it on her belt like a damn trophy."

Callico just stares.

"...Eeyup," I mutter. "Maniac..."

Callico is silent for a moment more, his face turning a bit green. He looks anxious.

"She's not nearby, right?" he asks quietly.

"Nope. Knocked out by a sleep dart," I say, nodding my head in Peeta's direction. "His work, and what sweet work it was."

"Nice," Callico chuckles. "You know… I just had a thought. We're the youngest ones still alive, I think."

"Yeah, we're both fourteen. Well, Miller is too though I think his birthday is near. He mentioned it before we got on the hovercraft," I say. Oh, how distant and long ago the Tribute Building feels. Being home in Nine feels longer still… "Why do you ask?"

Callico sighs as he grabs two bottles. Milkshakes! He passes me one as he speaks.

"Both the twelve years olds are dead," he says. My skin crawls at the thought of Rue. Keep it together Sickle… "Lacey as thirteen and she's dead, and I think that girl from Three was also thirteen… she's dead. So, I'm just uneasy… what if it's one of us next?"

I narrow my eyes, determined, and shake my head.

"It won't be me," I say, firm. "Never."

"Hey, I hope it's not you either," Callico says, sipping his drink. "Not that I really, uh, hope anybody bites it. Geez, I just realised! The girl from Ten! She and Rammy were a couple… she must be distraught. You know, that's what I'll do tomorrow. I'll go find her, try to do anything I can to help her."

Part of me wonders how Callico knows Rammy and Sable had been in love. They never said it at the interviews… but then, I never spoke to any Tribute who was not Miller back then, so maybe Callico spoke to them during Training? I think I vaguely remember him and the Eight Girl, uh, Lacey being fairly social. Maybe I should've been…? No, it'd make this even harder.

"...Good luck out there Callico," I say.

We hear the Anthem starting loud and proud. Peeta stirs and wakes up as we stand at the front of the cave to watch it. As Peeta joins us the Capitol Seal vanishes from it's place in the sky.

"Hate that bloody Seal," I mutter, making a gagging motion.

A moment later, Rammy's face appears in the sky. I can only hope his death was quick… though with the Careers, I doubt it. I guess I just hope he wasn't alive when Clove started slicing. I keep my gaze in the sky until Rammy is gone.

The Anthem ends, and all is dark and quiet in the Arena. Well, besides the crickets. We stand in place for a few moments, nothing happening.

"I'll take first watch," I say as I sit down, knife in hand.

"I'm rested well enough, I'll keep you company for a bit," Peeta says.

I'm about to say I'll be fine and do not need company, but I stop. Perhaps Peeta wants to talk about something. Like, what we'll do in the morning. So, I nod and he sits beside me. Callico meanwhile yawns, and heads to his sleeping bag.

"Wake me if you need anything," he says. "Use any weapons you want. Also, if you head out there, just be careful. I set a rope snare near the berry bushes to the left of the cave. The berries are edible, by the way."

Callico is soon in his sleeping bag and, laying his head upon the cushions in the cave, drifting off to sleep. Silence reigns for thirty minutes before Peeta speaks. Guess he wanted to be sure that Callico was asleep first.

"So, this guy… he's really helped us," Peeta begins. "I don't know if you'd be ok with this, but-."

"I don't want to stay with him," I say firmly. "I'd get… _attached_. Plus, he's too skilled to be able to fight if we had to, and a group of three… too many."

"...Actually, I was gonna say we should keep going just us together. Good to see we agree," Peeta says, smiling. "I'm grateful to him, and I have no intent to attack him. I'll help Callico in return if I ever get the chance… but in the end, only one Victor, and this guy, well..."

"It'd be suicide if it was you on him one on one," I say. "You stand better odds with me."

I then smirk, even in spite of the thought of us fighting.

"Or, maybe you just like me better," I tease.

"...You know, I can't say that's wrong," Peeta says, looking at the stars. "I know it can only end one way, but… you're my friend Sickle. I'm getting attached as well. You're nice to travel with."

...Wut.

Peeta is attached to _me_? Me, a feisty girl from Nine who never shuts up when she has to? Me, who probably bought the toxic rain upon us? Me who killed Rue…?

"You can't be serious," I say. I then speak a bit quicker and louder. "And what's this about 'as well'. I'm not attached, nope."

Peeta seems amused. He almost laughs. The nerve!

"But you came back and helped me when I fell down, even when you could've ran away without any real drawbacks. For somebody who's said you fully intend to be the last one left, and will kill if you must… well, you know what I mean," he says. He then pats me on my back. "Thanks Sickle, you're a good girl."

 _Please_ tell me I'm not blushing right now. No-no-no! Why is this boy so good at making me feel good with words!? I need to lock him out, quick. This can't go any further.

"...Yeah..." is all I manage to say. Bugger. "S-s-so, uh, tomorrow. Yeah, let's plan where we're gonna go next."

"Steal from the Careers again?" Peeta suggests. "Make traps?"

"Traps could be a good plan," I agree. "And hey, I'm always up for stealing."

"Only place in Panem we can get away with it," Peeta adds.

Soon enough, Peeta goes back into the cave and is once again sleeping. That leaves me alone once more, to act as guard. I don't mind though, I like being alone. Never had any issue with it. Plus, the night sky is nice tonight… that'll keep me occupied if nothing else happens.

Suddenly, though, being alone is feeling less fulfilling. Less… anything. I'm starting to miss talking to Peeta and Callico.

"Stop it Sickle," I tell myself firmly. "You'll only set yourself up for misery. Bad Sickle."

I shake my head, bopping it lightly a few times.

"Twenty three to save thousands," I whisper near silently. "Do **not** forget it..."

* * *

 **(END OF DAY 5…)**

* * *

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES**

 ** **Marvel (District 1 Male)****

 ** **Clove (District 2 Female**** ** **)****

 ** **Marina (District 4 Female)****

 ** **Tamora (District 6 Female)****

 ** **Callico (District 8 Male)****

 ** **Miller (District 9 Male)****

 ** **Sickle (District 9 Female)****

 ** **Sable (District 10 Female)****

 ** **Thresh (District 11 Male****

 ** **Peeta (District 12 Male)****

* * *

 ** **THE FALLEN****

11th- ****Rammy (District 10 Male)-**** Brutally beaten up by the Career Pack, and stabbed repeatedly in the chest by Clove.

12th- ****Rue (District 11 Female)**** \- Stabbed in the back with a knife by Sickle.

13th- **Glimmer (District 1 Female)-** Broke neck after falling off the Cornucopia

14th- **Cinder (District 5 Female)-** Impaled herself on Marvel's spear, and then stabbed in the heart by Clove.

15th- **Urchin (District 4 Male)-** Cleaved with a serrated sword by Marina, and then stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

16th- **Katniss (District 12 Female)** \- Two knives thrown into her back by Clove.

17th- **Weldar (District 3 Male)** \- Strangled and asphyxiated by Tamora.

18th- **Jason (District 6 Male)** \- Stabbed with a Kukri and then stabbed in the gut by a spear, by Marvel.

19th- **Wood (District 7 Male)** \- Throat slashed with a large cleaver by Glimmer.

20th- **Nettle (District 7 Female)** \- Stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

21st- **Gadget (District 3 Female)** \- Struck in the skull with an axe by Marina.

22nd- **Lacey (District 8 Female)** \- Impaled with a spear by Marvel.

23rd- **Sparky (District 5 Male** )- Knife thrown between the eyes by Clove.

24th- **Cato (District 2 Male)** \- Mines detonated by Sickle before the countdown was over.

* * *

 ** **TRIBUTE NOTES****

 ** **Rammy:**** Not as early a death as in WW, but not as far as he got in HW, this time Rammy falls at the midpoint of the Games. But here, we got to see some of how he and Sable interact for the first time. Sweet and loving, with Rammy being the tougher one and Sable as the gentle one. More on her some other time, but in the brief time he showed up I liked what Rammy offered. Willing to go along with what Sable wanted, but being more realistic and firm about the situation and to others. Dead, but sure to leave an impact… both upon Sable, and with his head being used as a trophy...


	6. 6: The One where Mutts Attack

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

 **Note:** Why is that with these Hunger Games stories I almost always get 80% or so of a chapter finished within a single day? I start, and cannot stop it seems! Here we are, the sixth day in the Arena with all that it may bring. Tribute count is falling, and the stakes are rising. Not got very much to say here this time, so read on and I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

"Sickle, wake up," a distant voice tells me.

I open my eyes yawning. Already, my grip is firm on my knife as I sit myself up. I blink a few times to get the fatigue from my eyes. It's morning and the sun is shining outside the cave – no sign of any toxic rain – and Peeta is looking at me, having been the one to wake me up.

"What's going on?" I ask, grabbing a pack of meat from the ground beside me. "Dried beef, fancy."

"Not much. Just time to get up," Peeta says. "Sun rose a while ago, and Callico's already left to… well, he didn't say where he was going or what he was gonna do. Just said he'd be back in a few hours and that we can take a few things if we're gonna be moving on."

"Sweet, let's get stealing," I say, nodding as I began to grab food, water and medical supplies to stuff into my backpack. "If he got sponsored all this hoard, he'll get more soon enough anyway."

"...Yeah, alright, I'm in," Peeta agrees as he gathers some gear as well.

Yesterday sucked, what with the toxic rain and the fact Clove has got Rammy's head on her belt, but today might be better. We have gear, we have our wounds fixed up and we even have good weather. A solid start to the day… and naturally, one that will not last long. If things look good, then something really bad must be planned for later in the day.

"So," I say as I swing my backpack on. "How do you think the Gamemakers will try to screw with us today?"

"I try not to think about it until it happens," Peeta replies as he puts on his own backpack.

"I like to think about it, and then survive it out of sheer spite against them," I say with a cheeky giggle. "They can sod right off if they think I'll die today."

"Sickle, sshhhh!" Peeta says, shaking his head. "We went over this, bad idea to taunt them!"

I huff, crossing my arms. I have no doubt my face has fourteen years of pouty'ness on it right now.

"They try and kill us. I mock them when they fail, it's a damn fair trade," I say, pounding a fist to my palm.

I can't help but shrink a little under the look Peeta is giving me.

"...I'll be good," I sigh.

Peeta nods, and we leave the cave. Sun in the sky, and no clouds. Nice hot weather… maybe too hot, really. Good thing we have water, because without it getting heatstroke would be a really big danger. At least the trees will give us some form of shelter, unless they're poisonous to be near. I'd not be surprised of it.

I let Peeta lead us in a random direction. Besides the fact Callico went a different way, according to Peeta, it's unknown what, or who, we're going to find this way… or even not find. The Careers are gonna be on the move again though now that Clove is certainly conscious once more. They're likely far away from us, but I don't doubt sooner or later we're going to 'accidentally' run into them. At least for now they're probably back at the Cornucopia, or in the shallow parts of the forest around it. Careers are brutal, but not very sneaky. We'd hear them coming long we ever saw them.

We walk for a while, just walking. Nothing is really happening, not that I mind, but it does get unnerving. Just silence, and the forest going on and on. It's like it's never-ending. Arenas are big, but this one feels endless. Of course, there is an end. The forcefield. I wonder… could I do what Haymitch did and use it as a weapon to make Snow even more furious? Tempting.

It's an hour of silently walking along before either of us say anything. Surprisingly, it's me that breaks the silence.

"So, um… this forest sure goes on a long way," I say. Gee, what a 'wonderful' start…

"Got that right. I know it's the Arena and it has an edge, but it feels bigger than the forests surrounding District Twelve," Peeta replies.

"You been in those forests?" I ask.

"Nope, never. Strictly speaking, we're not supposed to go past the fence," Peeta states, stepping over a rotten log. "You'd have to be very brave and skilled to do that."

I see a sadness in Peeta's eyes. Hmmm… I think he means Katniss went in the forest a lot. If she'd gotten out of the Bloodbath, this would have been _her_ Arena. No doubts about it. Kinda makes me relieved I never had to face off against her and that somebody did it for me, but… not like I am gonna say that out loud. I think Peeta might know my view anyway.

"There are some forests beyond District Nine," I say. "Well, I hear there are. They're miles and miles past all the wheat fields. Some say they're like a paradise, like a distant vacation spot for an hour or two before you gotta head back. Others say they're filled with nests of Tracker-Jackers. I'm not a kid. I'm not a little girl. I know the latter is more likely."

"Never hurts to hope though," Peeta replies.

"You'd think so, but then I remember somebody got hanged in Nine a few weeks ago for being 'too hopeful', shall we say," I reply. That was a nasty day. "Any ideas where we are? It all looks the same to me."

And it does. I can't remember anything about this part of the forest. No fallen trees, no swamp area, no river, nothing that looks notable in my eyes. Just endless, unknown forest. About the only thing here that catches my eye is a Tracker-Jacker nest on a lower branch of a distant tree. I'm quickly walking in another direction, not chancing it, and Peeta follows.

"Not sure," Peeta says. "It's tricky to navigate, I'll admit to that. But we have supplies and the Careers are probably miles away. Right now, I don't think it's too important if we do not know where we are.. Just that we're alive."

"Yeah," I say. "Best advice really. Stay alive."

"Yeah, that's what my Mentor told me and Katniss," he says, chuckling softly. "Looks like I'm working with it so far."

"Yeah..." I say. It's hard to say much about Katniss when I never knew her. "Your Mentor… maybe this is the year, you know? The year District Twelve has somebody get home."

"Could be. Been so long since Haymitch won. Even longer since then that we had our first Victor," Peeta muses, looking distant. "We did have a second Victor, you know. Or, I guess first I should say. I guess you're too young to know much about him."

"I'm fourteen!" I huff. "Not little! And you're only sixteen, Peety!"

"Peety?" he laughs. "Ok, ok, true. But it's more that only those in Twelve really talk about our first Victor these days. He's never spoken of on TV. Do you know his name?"

I'm thinking hard here, but I can't remember anything. I know each District has their Victor tally known- Two has the highest -but the names are not really something I've ever focused on. It suddenly occurs to me I don't know anything about this unknown Victor from Twelve.

"Um… was his name Coal?" I ask, unsure.

Peeta just rolls his eyes a little. Hoe!

"We may be the coal miners but that name isn't actually very common," Peeta says, shaking his head. "No, our first Victor was back in the 6th Hunger Games. He was a merchant kid, well off by Twelve standards. Seventeen when he won, his name was Duke Saint-Rose."

"Fancy name. Not what I'd expect from Twelve, no offence," I say.

"Yeah, not really a typical Twelve name," Peeta agrees. "Still, he was a good man. Known to be quite pleasant and a bit of a thinker. His Arena was apparently a canyon of some sort and-."

"Apparently?" I interrupt. "What, don't you know?"

"People don't like to talk about the Games more than they need to back home," Peeta says shortly. "So, he was in a canyon and he had a pick-axe. He'd never mined a day in his life, mainly he just read books or helped his family's tailor business indoors. Reading and that pick-axe saved his life."

"How so?" I ask. Now I'm getting curious.

"Reading gave him knowledge of rocks that were in the Arena. The pick-axe gave him the means to mine them. He mined himself a tunnel to hide in with an ally and lived off of bats for days. By the time he left the tunnel out of hunger only three others were left- early Careers I think- and they were too starved, and thirsty, to put up a real fight. So he won."

"Seems really simple," I can't help but say.

"Simple or not, that's how he won. He won by mining. For us, it was a really good end that year… showed that, seam or merchant, we can all use a pick-axe in some way," Peeta says, looking lost in the memory. "...It's a District Twelve thing."

"Nice story," I say, nodding. "So… how did he die?"

"Nobody likes to mention it if we can help it," Peeta says. "...I sure rambled a bit there, didn't I?"

"I'm sure the _lovely_ Capitol viewers liked the history lesson," I say, rolling me eyes at a camera. "Besides, talking distracts us from… well, this."

"Yeah, it does. It feels nice, focusing on something else. Strange how talking about a past Hunger Games distracts us from this one," Peeta says.

I smile, patting Peeta on the shoulder.

"The Hunger Games are meant as a distraction, right? Stop the Capitol citizens seeing how much their lousy leader makes those in the Districts suffer and starve," I reply. Oh crap! Did I say that out loud?

Peeta jumps back from me, half angry and half scared.

"That one slipped out! Force of habit, really!" I squeal, holding up my hands.

"Run!" Peeta yells, his eyes widening when he looks behind me.

I glanced back and quickly I'm sprinting forwards, not focusing on anything but keeping myself at a fast speed. Fog is rolling in, and it doesn't take a genius to see that it's going to be deadly if it catches up.

After all, the way it's making the tree bark crack and the plants die upon contact shows it's not going to be good if it touches human flesh.

"Can't you Gamemakers take a joke?!" I yell, panting a little as I run.

Clearly not. I'm in the correct stance and I'm flying along on my feet, but the fog is closing in on me. It can't be more than a few feet behind me, and it might be gaining on me now. Not that I'm going to look back to find out. Even a second of slowing down might get me killed, and that'd destroy everything. _My plan_. No! I need to stay alive!

"Peeta! Where are you?" I call, having lost sight of him. "Peeta!"

"Over here! Run!" I hear him call from somewhere. I can't see him though.

He must be beyond the fog. It's starting to approach from a different angle, dead ahead! Dead being the key word. Behind me, ahead of me, it's boxing me in.

"Oh yeah, that's right, make me get put into a trap with zero chance of being able to escape! Yeah, I'm sure that'll show the Districts the Games aren't rigged!" I sneer, quickly veering to the right where there is not yet any fog.

It's doubtful they will care if called out for an inescapable trap, but if any riots start from it… well, it might just distract them long enough for me to fight back. Seneca must by now be leering at the screen, watching me on camera, waiting for me to die. The toxic rain was one thing – one nasty thing at that – but this fog is even worse. It'd engulf me way more effectively than the rain would.

I can't hear Peeta anymore. No cannon either, so he's probably evaded the fog already. After all, it's not for him, it's meant for me and my treasonous mouth. It really just slipped out, but now my words have driven off somebody I was growing to really like. But, maybe it's better that way? In the end, being attached just makes things worse… after fourteen years of not letting myself have any friends, I doubt having had one for a few days will change much. Back to the norm.

Or at least it will be if I can get my way out of this one. The fog is chasing me now, and starting to get very near. A flicker of it touches my back. I try to hold back the scream from the pain it causes me as it seeps onto my flesh and the horrible stinging makes me go faster.

Some fog comes from nowhere I could see, getting my left hand. This time, I cannot hold it back. I scream and scream loud enough to be heard for miles.

"NGGGHHHH!" I wail, clenching my throbbing fist. "I'll _hand_ it to you Seneca, that hurt like a bitch!"

I'm starting to stumble from the pain searing through me, but I don't slow down. I can't slow down! If I do, I will die with the fog mere inches behind me. But I can see light past the trees and thick bushes up ahead. A way out of this dark part of the forest! Or at least, somewhere easier to run through.

I let out a final cry as I throw myself through the bushes and out to the other side.

OW! OW! OW!

I'm quickly rolling down a steep slope, the fog starting to trail behind me as I fall faster. I groan as I land in an ungraceful heap at the base of the slope. I can only groan and moan, my back and hand feeling ablaze in pain. What was even in that fog? Acid or something? Whatever it was, it hurts so much…

I'm swaying as I sit up, feeling out of it. The fog seems to have been withdrawn for now – great, that probably means something dangerous is nearby to finish me off – so I take the chance to quickly open up my backpack. I have medical gear. Something among it has got to be able to help me, right?

"Bandages, first aid cream, pain killers… not bad stuff," I say, before pondering. "Crap, where do I start with all of this? And… how do I get my back?"

I'm sitting silently, unsure of how to proceed. All I know is this hurts a lot and I want it to stop! But how can I do that? I can't reach the area on my back and all the first aid spray is gone. If I had another person then-

...But, Peeta is gone.

"...Painkillers, and I'll just deal with the rest of it one I find a better place to rest," I decide, swallowing a few of the pills. "Of all the things to kill, pain is a better thing than Rue."

I try not to think of the dead girl from Eleven as I wrap my hand in a bandage – or try to anyway – and, after packing my stuff up, move on.

The pain is making me limp a bit. So, it'll be a while until I get to wherever it is I am going. Maybe the Cornucopia? Still ten of us left, so Miller may still be willing to assist me. He helps tend to my back and hand and then in return… well, I'll just make sure I'm carrying something he wants.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

I'm so lost right now. I'm pretty sure I've not seen this area of the forest before, or perhaps my burning skin is just making me forget about being here? It's just been an endless expanse of forest for an hour now. I'm still on edge though, knife in my good hand, as I'm way that the fog has directed me towards something very deadly. A Mutt, a trap or maybe the Careers. None of them good things. But, so far I have not seen anything.

Except, the river. I found it again though it might be a different section of it, perhaps further north… not sure. I used my knife to sort of hollow out a small log into something like a bowl. I filled it with water, and that's where I am now, sitting here with my sore hand in the bowl. Still hurts a lot, but keeping it submerged has dulled it a little.

"I've always been called a real handful, but… dammit," I say to myself, still wincing from my sore back. "A point to you Seneca."

Soon enough, I'm up and back on the move. It's not safe to stay in one place too long, everybody knows it. Except Thresh I guess, but in his field he has such an upper hand that it probably doesn't matter for him. For me though, it does. Danger could be anywhere at all.

Like at my feet in that trap I almost stepped into.

"Hmm, what's this?" I say, kneeling down.

Obviously, a trap. But it's a well made one – not that I am an expert – and is hidden by dead leaves. I'm not gonna risk moving the leaves to get a better look, but I can see that it looks like a few spikes have been set here in a small foot-sized hole. Punji sticks.

Quickly, I'm moving away from the trap. Somebody must be nearby, or have been this way, and I would rather not get into a fight right now. I'll leave the trap for somebody else to fall into. It'd be a help for me if it happened.

Hearing voices, I quickly sprint away, ducking down at the base of a large tree. I'm out of sight, though I peer out to observe. Over here, low to the ground, I shouldn't be seen. Perhaps fleeing would be a better idea, but I know who it must be coming this way. The Careers. The only ones travelling as a group right now. I'd rather know exactly what shape they are in and where they are going.

Sure enough, Clove and Marvel enter my line of sight, and Tamora brings up the rear. Besides the bruises from yesterday, it seems Clove has a cut on her nose and Marvel is limping a little. Weak Careers are the second best kind of Careers – dead Careers take the top spot – but, what, or who, could have hurt them?

"This isn't going well," Marvel says, sounding annoyed. "That boy from Eight is nuts. He's on our level, somehow. I should've killed him at the Bloodbath."

"Well, why didn't you?" Clove replies, sounding annoyed. Yep, Rammy's head is still on her belt…

"The Nine girl. That stunt she pulled had everybody distracted and frantic. The guy was gone before I could get my hands on him," Marvel says, scowling.

"It all goes back to her! If she hadn't cheated, if she hadn't killed… next time we see her, we chase her. No stopping, no giving up. We do not let her out of our sight until she is dead and her head is on my belt," Clove says, stabbing her knife into a tree for emphasis. "She could be anywhere."

Oh, if only you knew Clove. If _only_ you knew.

"She was with that guy from Twelve," Tamora says, finally speaking up. "Kill him next. It might throw her off and get her to make a mistake."

Clove gives Tamora a shove, her face a permanent scowl.

"What right do you have to care? Cato wasn't anything to you like he was to us. Like he was to me!" Clove says, her eyes shut for a moment. "You're only here as a mere replacement."

"I don't know anything about the Nine girl," Tamora says, shrugging. "I just know once she's dead I'll be closer to getting home."

"You're never getting out," Clove says darkly.

"Yeah, she's right. Either me or Clove have this in the bag," Marvel adds. "Know your place."

"Unlike Jason, my place isn't being dead," Tamora says, though she does take a step back from the Careers.

I wince as her scream echoes around the forest. Maybe it could be heard for a mile or two? I sympathise with her pain, being in pain myself. After all, Tamora just stepped on the Punji Stick trap. She's on the ground, screaming and yelling with some of the sharp sticks pierced through her foot.

"Shit! ARRRGGGHH!" she screams, wailing as her shaking hands hold her foot. The boots do nothing, clearly. "AARRRRRRGGGGHHH!"

"Think we can get anymore use out of this one?" Clove asks, smirking as she twirls a knife in her hand. "I'd love to add another head to my belt."

Tamora is silent despite the pain, shaking in terror.

"Nah, let her live," Marvel says. "She doesn't need her foot to use a blowgun. Besides, she won't be going anywhere fast now. Besides… I'm getting a _kick_ out of this, seeing her foot like that."

Dammit Marvel, that's not funny! It's just dumb! Though after my own puns, can I even judge? Clove lowers her knife, disappointed, but it seems Tamora will live for now. The girl from Six is somewhat sitting up, wheezing in pain. She takes hold of one of the punji sticks and in a sudden motion yanks it out.

I cover my ears. It's making me shake, hearing that kind of an agonised howl. Hearing Clove and Marvel laughing just makes me scowl. I bet they'd not be laughing if it was happening to them. Yeah, I'll kill if I have to and I know I'm gonna have to kill again. But drawing it out and laughing over it, that's a line you don't cross in District Nine. If it can be helped, quick and clean is how it's done.

I should get moving. I don't think there is anything left to see over here. I keep still though, as now Marvel is looking at the trap.

"Pretty well made. Not one of mine though," he says.

He stands back up, looking around.

"Somebody must be nearby. Spread out!" he yells.

"You go that way and I go this way?" Clove suggests, nodding her head near me. Thankfully, I withdrew into cover before the crazy girl saw me. "What about this one?"

"She's not going anywhere," Marvel says, shrugging.

"Ahhhhhh!" Tamora wheezes, shaking. "...Look! There!"

It's hard to see from where I am kneeling, but somebody is among the trees at the other side of the river. They look to have searing red skin, what seems to be a limp and, I think, a blue jacket.

"Four! There you are, you dead traitor!" Clove cheers, sounding excited. "C'mon Marvel, let's kill her!"

"On it!" he says, also eager.

Marvel throws his spear but Marina got behind a tree in time. The spear pins into a tree and she begins to sprint away as fast as she can go. She looks like she's _really_ hurting. Was that her trap? Must have been, right? Clove and Marvel seem to think or, or maybe they just want to kill somebody else, as they're already sprinting off across the river in pursuit. No fish mutts attack them and they leave cheering and yelling as they chase Marina.

A few minutes pass with no cannons and no signs of them returning. Tamora remains where she is, screaming with every punji stick she removes from her foot. Her blowgun lies fallen, out of range. I could eliminate her.

Looks like the Careers, in their rush, dropped a few things too. I can see a small bag on the ground and, I think, two spear heads beside it. Without those, things get harder for the Careers.

I'm already making my move, running in quickly as Tamora yanks out the last punji stick. She screams again – the shrillness of it makes my ears hurt – and while she lays moaning, her leg shaking in pain, I grab up the supplies and am already running back the way I came.

"Hey! Stop!" she yells.

But I'm already far away before she can do anything about it. I won't kill her now – she's no threat to me with her foot hurt, unless a sponsor helps her – but I can't put off the reality much longer. Soon enough, I'm gonna kill somebody else. It's just, I don't want to risk the cannon and her screams drawing back the Careers. They could've been on their way back for all I know.

And if she tells them where I've gone, I plan to be long gone and in a different direction.

Seeing a pond I empty the supplies into it – besides the spear heads, just a few knives is all I stole – and run off in a random direction. And so it goes on, just constant random directions and frequently going a different way. Let's see them track me after this.

Time may be passing but my hand is not getting any better, and my back is feeling worse than it did before. I need to sort this out, soon. With four Tributes behind me, and two of them my biggest threats, odds look in my favour I'll find a place to stop and take care of things somewhere ahead of me.

Watch there be a mutt right ahead of me, or something.

* * *

 **(Not much later…)**

* * *

I'm at the top of a cliff, perched on the overlook. As my legs dangle over the side, safely out of range of sharp rocks below, I'm working on fixing myself up. It's been a mixed result. I'm just not that good at knowing what to use on what injury. In the end I just used a bit of all the lotions and tonics I had, and gave myself a fresh bandage wrapping. Still painful, but not as bad as before. Damn poisonous fog. Though now I just feel sore all over from falling down that slope. The painkillers are not living up to their name.

"It'll have to do," I say, flexing out my bandaged hand a little. "Not dead just yet. Sore all over my damn body, but still alive."

" **ATTENTION. ATTENTION TRIBUTES**."

I may have spoken too soon, not that that's anything new. That voice, it's Claudius Templesmith. He's the announcer of the Games and is the man who informs us about Arena Events - a Feast usually – and also the man with one of the stupidest haircuts I have seen in my life.

"Oh, you got my attention alright," I mutter, looking up at the sky. Not that he'll be up there. More likely back in the Capitol, watching from afar.

" **CONGRATULATIONS ON SURVIVING TO THE TOP TEN. MOST OF YOU HAVE PEOPLE CHEERING FOR YOU TO BECOME THE VICTOR**."

Yeah, no guesses who doesn't. I just roll my eyes, beckoning with my hand for Claudius to continue.

" **A SPECIAL EVENT IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN WITHIN THE ARENA. LISTEN CAREFULLY. UPON THE SOUNDING OF THE GONG AT THE END OF THIS ANNOUNCEMENT NINE SPECIAL MUTTS WILL BE RELEASED INTO THE ARENA. THEY ARE GOLD, SPARKLING AND WOULD BE VERY HARD FOR YOU TO MISS. YOU MUST HUNT THEM DOWN AND KILL ONE OF THEM. YOU ARE FORBIDDEN TO KILL MORE THAN ONE. THE ONE TRIBUTE WHO DOES NOT MANAGE TO KILL ONE OF THESE MUTTS WILL HAVE THEIR TRACKER DETONATE, CAUSING IMMEDIATE DEATH. GOOD LUCK TRIBUTES, AND MAY THE ODDS BE** _ **EVER**_ **IN YOUR FAVOUR!** "

There is silence, only the sound of wind rustling the trees. A loud gong rings out.

"...Crap!" I yelp, packing my gear away and jumping up to my feet as I sling on the backpack. "Golden sparkly mutt? Oh man, oh man!"

I quickly hold my bladed whip in hand. A 'special' mutt is gonna require a good weapon after all. But, where could one be? I'm on a time limit here, any amount of stalling could get me killed. Sure, quick and painless, but no! I won't die! I can't die yet! You would think I'd have good odds here, with Tamora having an injured foot and Sable being unarmed and unwilling to kill, but I bet Seneca's next move against me is to have the mutts spawn far away from me and just stay away from me.

Well, I've already run my mouth a lot already. With this event already started, is there really anything I stand to lose by calling the Gamemakers out even more? Will I lose anything by calling them on what their plan is for all the audience to hear and maybe make them risk making the Capitol viewers see the Games for they are?

Hell no!

"Ok, time to hunt down one of those mutts!" I say, swishing the bladed whip for emphasis. "And don't do what I think you're going to do and rig it against me by having all of the Mutts stay out of my range because you're scared of my cheeky, rebellious mouth!"

Seeing a shadow, I lunge forwards. A tree fell right where I had been standing.

"Proving my point, Seneca!" I call to the sky.

A few seconds pass, and no trees fall. Maybe they'll spawn one of the Mutts near me now? Or, at least give me a chance at staying alive? I'd hope they would. After all, why prove the rebellious Tribute right?

"Ok, Careers and Tamora are back that way. So, better go this way," I say, walking down the slope towards the bottom of the cliff.

It's steep, so I'm going slow. I'd rather not fall down another steep slope and land in a bruised heap. I'm still feeling sore from the last time that happened, and that's not even getting into how my hand and back are still searing from the fog. Carefully does it, panic will only make it more likely to get myself killed. Those sharp rocks are the danger here.

As I'm starting to make my way down to the base of the cliff, a gong rings out. I pause, looking up at the sky.

" **EIGHT MUTTS REMAIN**!"

Already? It's not even been five minutes! How could somebody not only find one so fast, but kill it too? I'd suspect maybe one of the Careers did it – this event is made for them, pretty much – but Callico might have too. I might have less time to hunt one down than I thought I did.

"Um… this way!" I decide, running a random direction into the trees.

I have no idea where I am going. But, if I'm on the move I might just find a Mutt faster. Better plan than just standing totally still and hoping it'll come to me. If you want anything in life, you have to go and get it. Especially if it'll prevent death.

I can't help but feel anxious as I run along through. Will Peeta be able to find a Mutt? ...Will I see his face in the sky tonight?

"Good luck Peeta," I say.

I'm attached. I tried not to be, but I am. Just a few nice talks with him, and already I'm afraid he will die. Why do I care? It's not like I've known him very long – he was the last person in the Arena I spoke to! - but, already I'm caring about him. I tried to avoid getting attached to anybody for fourteen years. I thought it was easy to be a loner. Business as usual.

I never quite realised how much I would love Peeta's company. Now, I'm feeling lonely without him.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

Five Mutts. That's how many are left now, and after three hours I've still not found one. It's a nice thought that Peeta might have been able to find one, but I'd rather I found one. Painless death or not, I don't wish to explode into a shower of my own guts.

"Come on, where are you?" I ask, looking around with my weapon in hand. "Come here sparkle, sparkle, sparkle."

Being nervous makes me say the dumbest of things, doesn't it? But, I can't help that I'm starting to worry. I've looked around and nothing is here! Calling out the Gamemakers a second time only earned me a swarm of flies – none were sparkling – and with them quite a few bites. Some on my arms, a few on my legs, one on my forehead and a few to my backside. You wouldn't think flies could bite through clothing, but they can. Oh, they _can_...

Hopefully I have some medical gear left over that could help sooth the bites. I'd patch myself up now, but I don't want to waste any time. Every second that goes by is a second closer somebody else will be to killing a Mutt and saving themselves.

I hear a loud gong.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," I say with a groan.

" **FOUR MUTTS REMAIN**!"

Peeta's probably safe by now. Perhaps Miller is too? He was surely still guarding the Cornucopia, so he'd have been able to grab any weaponry and gear he needed for this. Lucky guy indeed. If I do get blown to bits, it would be nice if he won. At least District Nine would have another Victor after so long, and extra food too.

I see something sparkling up ahead.

"Hell yeah sparkle, sparkle, sparkle!" I cheer, gripping my weapon tighter.

Looks like being relieved makes me say even _dumber_ things than being nervous. But, there it is! Past the trees ahead and in a more barren area of the forest, I can see a sparkling creature laying upon a large rock. One of the Mutts, definitely. I don't think it has noticed me, so this might not be too hard.

I'm quiet and careful as I approach it, sneaking and hiding behind any trees I can. So far, so good. At the last tree, I peer out at my target.

I can't get a very good look at the Mutt's face from this angle, but I can see enough from here. It's golden and sparkly like Claudius said. The thing is kind of humanoid, almost like if it were a person but made to go on all fours rather than walk on two legs. It's kind of scaly and a strange combination of lanky, but muscular. A paradox, but then again does anything about Mutts really make sense? Not to me. It's also got some spiky blond hair on its otherwise featureless – well, from this angle anyway- head. Strange addition. But better that than extra claws.

Time to get killing. The barren rocky area around it should give me plenty of space to move around. But, if I can sneak up on it then that might not matter anyway. One good whip to its skull should be enough. Maybe a few stabs too? I'll keep my knife in my other hand, just to be safe.

"Focus Sickle," I tell myself, taking a breath in and then out.

I step out from behind the tree and start to approach the golden Mutt. It's only a few meters away, and it's still not noticed me. Is it deaf? There have been Mutts with no eyes in past years, so maybe a Mutt that cannot hear anything is also possible? I suppose it's not important anyway. I'm almost in range and ready to attack. This won't be too-

OWWWW! Fuck!

The Mutt heard me! Not only that, but it kicked me hard with its hind legs. I'm groaning, feeling like puking as I stagger back to my feet. No cuts. Nothing broken. Just a nasty, forceful impact. I'm ready to pounce the mutt and stab it to death.

Now that I am seeing it head on, I'm suddenly not feeling ready. I feel the colour leave my face as I stare at this Mutt.

After all, I'm seeing a familiar face staring right back at me, snarling in hatred and hatred only.

"...Cato?" I ask, stunned. How… how is this possible?!

But there is no mistaking the Brute from Two who I killed before he ever had the chance to take a single step. Those same very strong arms – or are they front legs now? - and the same blue eyes full of arrogance and fury. The same blond hair. It's a Mutt, not a human, but the similarity… you'd have to be blind to not see it. Is this Cato? Has he been revived and turned into a monster? Is he aware of what he has become? Are those his actual eyes…? I feel sick thinking about it. Or, is this just a Mutt made to resemble him in some messed up way to screw with my mind?

Doesn't matter as he's on the attack, lunging for me. I roll out of the way and I'm on my feet. Fight now, feel freaked out later.

"Back for round two?" I ask, readying my bladed whip. "I beat you once, I'll beat you again. This time, on equal ground. Let's see what those years of training can do. _**Come on**_!"

And come on he does. I feel my ears burn from the Cato Mutt's shriek, but thankfully my ear drums do not rupture. If he gets near me, those sharp teeth will rip my neck out. But I can't run away. If this Mutt escapes I'll die, and if he were to pin me from behind I would also die. So, better that he take the first hit!

Cato, or his Mutt, whatever, screams as I strike him with the bladed which. A solid cut on his left shoulder, blood seeping out. I scream as well as I'm bashed to the ground when the Mutt pounces. I'm striking my knee into the monster's gut as hard as I can, but it's not getting it off of me. It looks ready to bite, and this time Peeta isn't here to help.

"Didn't pin my arms, did you bitch?" I yell, punching the Cato Mutt in the face.

The Mutt howls as blood leaks from its nose. I'm howling too, my left hand now even more painful than it already was. Ow, ow, ow! But the beast has been very briefly stopped from chewing my neck out, and a brief opening is all I need. I'm not just limited to the bladed whip or my knives after all.

"Hey Cato, here's a Sponsor for you!" I say, grabbing out my tazer and jamming it into the Mutt's neck.

This gets the Mutt off of me- I make sure to land a kick at it as it backs off – but it's not out of this yet. It's bleeding, but now it seems even more aggressive and willing to fight. I feel a prickling in the back of my beck as it snarls.

I know I'm scared right now. But I can't show it.

The whip, it's fallen by the Mutt. Oh, of course, the Cato Mutt is guarding it. Lovely! A knife and a tazer, that's all I've got to work with. But I'm starting to get tired, the pain is starting to get hard to ignore.

A gong rings out just right as I try to stab Cato Mutt between the eyes.

" **THREE MUTTS REMAIN** "

Damn! The gong broke my focus and I missed the killing blow. The stab in the other shoulder will have to do.

"Had enough?" I ask, breathing deeply. The bruises and the fly are starting to take a lot out of me. I need to end this quick.

Cato Mutt swings a strong arm at me, claws out. I swing my knife at the same time. I'm screaming as I fall. The result was a searing cut on my hip and a large slash on its arm. Damn, the beast is bleeding from three places now. Could I just tire it out and let it bleed to death?

Cato Mutt is snarling at me. I try snarling back, not showing my fear. I hope not anyway, I never like to show weakness or a need of much aid. That'd just lead to trouble and people taking advantage.

The Mutt tries to leap at me and I make to stab it again.

NO!

"AAARRARRGGHHHHH!" I scream, my voice warped from the pain.

The mutt faked me out and jumped me when I was off guard. I'm screaming, my foot ablaze in pain. My foot! AARRGHHH! It's biting me, it's trying to eat me foot! I can barely think through my screaming, but if wants eat my foot, it can damn well eat this!

The Mutt stops, dazed from my other foot smashing it in the face.

"I don't need land mines to kill you this time," I hiss, shaking from the _pain_.

I try to get up, and instantly fall. I can't stand on my gnawed foot! The Mutt backs off, looking ready to launch itself upon me. My knife is still in my hand.

"You were a Capitol Lapdog before, and now you're literally one!" I choke out, starting to feel like passing out. I can't bring myself to look at my foot right now.

Cato roars that horrible, ear breaking shriek and leaps upon me. Right as he does, I thrust the knife forwards as hard as I possibly can, my other hand covering my throat for what little it may help.

I'm silent, my heart pounding for what feels like several long minutes. Or, is it only seconds? I'm looking into Cato's eyes – maybe his real ones, I'm not sure – and the life is gone from them. My knife pierced right into this beast's heart and the blood is leaking out. It's leaking onto me, though I don't care.

The gong is music to my ears.

" **TWO MUTTS REMAIN**!"

I groan, shoving the dead Cato Mutt off of me. For a while I just lay here, pain surging through me. It feels pointless to swear and scream about it, but it's so tempting. No… no. I can't give Seneca and anybody else the satisfaction.

"Not beaten yet," I hiss out.

The Cato Mutt starts to turn to ash, its body disappearing into a few dusty sparkles. Not like I mind of course, I'm glad it's done. With it, Cato is back in the nether. Did he ever leave it though, really?

I don't care enough to seek an answer, my foot bloody hurts!

I'm groaning and trying my hardest to not whimper as I use my good arm to drag myself over to a nearby stump to lean against it. Maybe they won't let anything upon me while the event is still going on. Let's see what the damage is.

"I'm gonna be sick," I mutter, looking at my right foot.

Besides the bruises and slashes that, though painful, I can still live and survive with… this is bad. I'm starting to realise how much danger I could be in now. My food is gnawed, bloody and somewhat mangled. Nothing that Capitol tech wouldn't be able to fix, I think, but as it stands now I'm not going to be walking on this anytime soon.

If I can't even walk properly… well, calling me a dead girl walking is generous. I need medical aid, but having run my mouth and been so cheeky – boy, putting it mildly there – to the viewers help won't be coming anytime soon. I've really gone and done it now!

I'm not scared of dying. But dying too soon, the thought is making me tremble.

I hear a gong.

" **ONE MUTT REMAINS!** "

"May the odds and all that crap to whoever is left," I mutter.

I wonder, were the other Mutts made some some of the dead tributes as well? The thought of that is making me feel extremely sick. It's bad watching your child be murdered on TV… seeing it happen twice, after they have become a monster? I can't imagine how horrible it must feel… then again, with my foot aflame in pain, maybe I don't have to imagine hard.

I'm laying in place for a while, everything feeling distant as my mangled foot continues to torment me. I can't stop a few tears from escaping.

"Is this what my life has been leading up to?" I say, for lack of anything else I can do. "Laying here with a bloodied foot, after killing Cato a second time?"

Saying that out loud, the reality of what I've just done has really hit me.

"...Am I the first person in the Hunger Games and all of Panem to have killed the same Tribute twice? That Tribute being the favourite to win before it all started?" I ask the sky. "...From Nine to Two, you have my apologies..."

I start to root through my backpack for anything to help me. But the pain is making every start to feel numb and I cannot focus. I manage to swallow a few more painkillers, tossing away the empty bottle, but it's not helping me much.

"If I stay alive, maybe I'll kill him a third time?" I muse, starting to have trouble seeing anything without it being blurry. "Imagine how exciting that'd be to watch."

I hear a gong.

A moment passes before a cannon fires. I wonder who it was? Even in this sorry state, I worry for Peeta. If I can hang on a few more hours, the Anthem will tell me.

" **WELL DONE TRIBUTES! THE NINE OF YOU SUCCEEDED AT THE EVENT AND ARE ONE** _STEP_ **CLOSER TO VICTORY! YOU'VE MADE GREAT** _STRIDES_ **FORWARDS, AND THE** _SPRINT_ **FOR THE CROWN IS REALLY ON! THIS IS NO** _WALK_ **IN THE PARK**!"

"Oh, fuck you Claudius," I say, groaning.

" **GOOD LUCK TRIBUTES, AND MAY THE ODDS BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOUR**."

The forest is silent as I lay here. The girl from District Nine, in the top nine. Fitting, but is this as far as I make it? I don't know. I can hardly think of anything.

"I feel funny," I mumble.

A moment later I spew out vomit and collapse on my side. The last thing I hear as everything goes dark and quiet is a sonar sounding beep.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

Everything is a glowing orange when I open my eyes. My first thought is I must be dead and possibly somewhere in the nether past the grave, but no. It's still the Arena. Still the same crappy forest. I wonder why they didn't try to finish me off while I was defenceless…

I guess that way I wouldn't really be suffering any horribly agonising death. Well, I'll take it. Sure, more pain and injuries are on the way, but at least I'm still alive.

I am also not alone.

"Oh thank goodness, I was worried you were going to die..." my guest says.

I groan as I sit up, looking around. My gear is still here, a sponsor parachute has been opened beside me and, most notably, Sable kneels in front of me. It looks like she's been tending to my foot and my other injuries. The swipe at my side has been bandaged, my hand and my back are rewrapped and do not feel aflame from that nasty fog anymore – I guess Sable had some medicine for it? - and, mercifully, the bleeding in my foot has stopped. Now it just feels numb… too numb. But, it's been wrapped in a bandage too and presumably the parachute beside me contained something to help with it.

It's a pure fluke of luck Sable was the one to find me. The sole person who refuses to kill or even fight for any reason at all. The pacifist. Its mad, it's crazy, it's the luckiest outcome ever!

"Kinda thought I already had," I reply, wiping a sweat off of my forehead. "I bet I looked like crap when you found me."

"You were quite a mess," Sable mumbles. She sounds broken. Defeated. "I'm not sure how long you were out, but I've been watching over you for forty minutes now. Mutt attack?"

"You could say that," I reply, shaking my head a little to clear it. "...Thank you."

Sable just smiles sadly, and continues fixing me up.

"I had to open your sponsor gift, it was making too much noise beeping as it was. It was some kind of injection. I think it helped your foot though. Not bleeding now and it seemed to look less… mangled, a few minutes after I used the injection," Sable says, sniffling. "I even found you something to walk on."

Sable passes me a sturdy branch. That'll be a good walking stick for a while.

"..." I can't think of anything to say.

So, I don't say anything. I just give Sable what is probably one of the most awkward hugs in Panem. She quickly returns it though. But I can tell, as Sable hugs me, she's holing back the urge to wail.

Aw crap, why didn't I realise this even sooner? Rammy is dead! Sable must be heartbroken, really suffering from grief.

"...I saw Rammy's face in the sky," I say quietly. "Sorry for your loss."

Sable just nods, trying to wipe away her tears.

"...I knew it was going to happen but… but… oh, that girl from Two! She has my love's _**head**_ on her belt!" Sable screams, sobbing loudly. "Why… why would anybody do something like that?"

Sable hiccups a little, letting the tears out. It's hard, seeing her like this. And even despite all this grief, she quickly stepped in to help me. I don't think I deserve something this sweet tending to me. Panem doesn't serve somebody like this. Or, is that just the lasting pain talking?

"...I know I have no chance of winning whatsoever," Sable says quietly, looking broken. "I'm going to die at some point soon. I'm never gonna see District Ten again… I'll be with Rammy soon. If not from a Mutt or a blade then by sickness. I've been so woozy, puking a bit too."

Sable sniffles, wiping her nose on her sleave.

"That's ok though… I can die as me, not as a monster. M-m-mostly..." Sable says, shivering. "In whatever time I have left, I'm gonna try to make sure everybody else doesn't have to suffer too much. Fixing you up, the least I can do. Be careful, _please_."

"...I'll try," I say quietly. "I'm gonna be the last one left. Injury comes with the territory. Amazingly, I didn't do anything to anybody today, except insulting the Gamemakers. Makes me wonder how I got that sponsor… you know, maybe Tamora could use your medical know-how if she'd not shoot you with a dart first. She stepped in this punji-stick trap and then she..."

I'm trailing off, seeing the colour draining from Sable's face.

"...Something I said?" I ask with an awkward shrug.

"That was my trap! Oh my God, I hurt her! I caused Tamora a serious injury!" Sable yells, before she collapses, quietly weeping. "I was so hungry…. I just wanted to catch something to eat. I'm from Ten, I eat meat. I was desperate… I didn't mean to hurt Tamora, _please_ believe me."

"I believe you," I assure her. Better to not mention how the trap could've gotten Tamora killed in the Arena Event if she was unable to walk. "You're not a bad person. You're just… suffering."

"So much," Sable shivers, looking lost. "...I killed somebody today. I'm a murderer. My Ma must be so ashamed of me. I'm not her daughter anymore. Actually, my District must be disgusted at me."

"...Wait, you killed somebody?" I say. Ok, this is a shock! Sable _killed_ somebody. Sable! "So, there's only eight of us left now? ...Who was it?"

As Sable sobs, all I can find myself thinking is that I hope it wasn't Peeta.

"No, there's still nine of us," she says. "I don't know who died earlier though."

"...I'm confused," I admit. "How could you have… oh wait, do you mean the Mutt? Ok, I'm bad at feelings, but I don't think killing a Mutt – a thing that only exists to kill us – counts as murder. My Mutt was creepy as crap, it looked kinda like..."

And that's where I trail off, things suddenly _very_ clear to me. Why Sable thinks she is a murderer and why she believes her District will hate her.

The Mutt that she found must have been made to look like Rammy, the man she loved.

"Rammy attacked and… and I just reacted," Sable mumbles. "I panicked and grabbed a big branch and… and then he was dead again. I killed my boyfriend. I murdered the man I wanted to marry."

And Sable begins to cry once more, all while doing her best to continue fixing me up.

"You sadists! Bastards! Cowards!" I yell to the sky. "I'll make you pay..."

Seneca, let our battle continue. I'm ready for your next move. I just hope for your sake that you're ready for mine.

But even with Sable's help, my foot is busted. Running is not an option now. What am I going to do?

Think of a plan, that's what! The more they try to kill me, the longer I will live out of sheer spite alone.

* * *

 **(A while later…)**

* * *

The sun has set, and the night has begun. The Careers could be on the prowl anywhere now. But I'm not scared. Not very. I have other things to focus on.

Like waiting for the Anthem. Who died? Honestly, I'm expecting Tamora but maybe the odds were in her favour after all? Whoever it was, at least they went out quick.

Quicker than the speed I'm hobbling along on. It's not easy, walking through the moonlit forest with a branch to use as a sort of walking stick, but it's better than nothing. Every since she managed to stop crying about half an hour ago, Sable and I have been walking along through the woods to what might be our salvation. I need more medical supplies badly, and Sable's gonna need food for once we split up – I can't keep on getting attached, and Sable is making it hard not to be – and I know of a place that's got both those things, and more to spare.

Callico's cave.

"You sure this is the right way?" Sable asks quietly.

"Might be. You said the river was that-a-way and that means the place I started at today was more or less this-a-way. Once we get nearer, I'll recognize it," I assure her, even I'm not really sure of my plan either. "Better than just staying in one place for Clove to find us."

Sable shivers and hiccups a little. Right, crap, any time I mention Clove she's going to think of Rammy's head on her belt. Better stop saying the C word then.

"We probably will not reach it in one night," she says after a while. "After another hour, we should stop for the night."

"Hour and ten minutes," I suggest.

"Alright then," she says, quietly. "What happens if Callico is dead before we find him?"

"Well, his supplies will be there either way," I say, keeping my focus on the dark trail ahead of us. Just in case somebody else has put down a trap- Marvel did say he can make punji sticks too. "They won't be taken away by the hovercraft if they get speared or stabbed."

Sable doesn't respond. I guess there was nothing to really say in response to that, was there? Nothing but me grumbling and hissing over the lingering pain in my foot. Fixed up a bit or not, it's still been mauled badly. Not to mention my shoe is pretty much wrecked too so now stepping on twigs is causing me bother.

I complain a lot don't I? Well, if my plan works… Panem as a whole might have less to complain over. I hope so at least.

We wander through the dark forest for a further twenty minutes give or take, but then we quickly freeze in place. The Anthem has begun.

"Not Callico," Sable mumbles. " _Please_ , not Tamora either."

" _Not Peeta, not Peeta_ ," I think to myself.

As the Anthem plays out it's usual melody the Capitol Seal is shown in the air for us to see. Yeah, not like it's forced into our vision every day of our lives anyway, right? Oh wait, no, it is.

...It's not Peeta.

Wait… what… _**WHAT**_?!

"How could that have happened?" I say quietly, as I look in the face in the sky.

Sable mumbles something. Probably that she has no idea.

Nobody was guaranteed to live today, but seeing Thresh's face in the sky and looking down at us was really not the result that I had expected. But, the proof is all there. The massive powerhouse from Eleven is dead, whatever was left of him probably having to be scraped up.

Pragmatically, this is good as no way in hell was I gonna be able to kick his ass if we met a second time. But still… there was a delay between the last gong and the cannon. I feel queasy at the thought of the pure terror his last two or so seconds must have been full of.

The Anthem ends, and all is silent once again.

"...Another step closer to being crowned Victor," I say after a while. "C'mon."

Sable doesn't speak. She just nods and follows after me. Like with Peeta, it feels slightly odd that somebody two years my elder is following me and seeing me as the leader. Then again, I don't mind it either. It feels kinda nice, being relied upon.

I shake my head as I continue leading us through the forest.

" _Why is it becoming harder to not get attached_?" I think. " _Never had the issue until now_."

* * *

 **END OF DAY SIX…**

* * *

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES**

 ** **Marvel (District 1 Male)****

 ** **Clove (District 2 Female**** ** **)****

 ** **Marina (District 4 Female)****

 ** **Tamora (District 6 Female)****

 ** **Callico (District 8 Male)****

 ** **Miller (District 9 Male)****

 ** **Sickle (District 9 Female)****

 ** **Sable (District 10 Female)****

 ** **Peeta (District 12 Male)****

* * *

 ** **THE FALLEN****

10th- ****Thresh (District 11 Male)**** \- Blown apart by Tracker Detonation.

11th- ****Rammy (District 10 Male)**** -Beaten up by the Career Pack, and stabbed repeatedly in the chest by Clove.

12th- ****Rue (District 11 Female)**** -Stabbed in the back with a knife by Sickle.

13th- **Glimmer (District 1 Female)-** Broke neck after falling off the Cornucopia

14th- **Cinder (District 5 Female)-** Impaled herself on Marvel's spear, and then stabbed in the heart by Clove.

15th- **Urchin (District 4 Male)-** Cleaved with a serrated sword by Marina, and then stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

16th- **Katniss (District 12 Female)** \- Two knives thrown into her back by Clove.

17th- **Weldar (District 3 Male)** \- Strangled and asphyxiated by Tamora.

18th- **Jason (District 6 Male)** \- Stabbed with a Kukri and then stabbed in the gut by a spear, by Marvel.

19th- **Wood (District 7 Male)** \- Throat slashed with a large cleaver by Glimmer.

20th- **Nettle (District 7 Female)** \- Stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

21st- **Gadget (District 3 Female)** \- Struck in the skull with an axe by Marina.

22nd- **Lacey (District 8 Female)** \- Impaled with a spear by Marvel.

23rd- **Sparky (District 5 Male** )- Knife thrown between the eyes by Clove.

24th- **Cato (District 2 Male)** \- Mines detonated by Sickle before the countdown was over.

* * *

 ** **TRIBUTE NOTES****

 ** **Thresh:** ** I think his death here was something of a surprise, or at least not the most obvious outcome to the Arena Event. Big, powerful and very much a danger if you got on his bad side as Sickle did, if they had met a second time he could've easily killed her. As we saw before, he had the upper hand in his field - a place not even the Careers dared to go in canon – but, he went back to it. He didn't leave it in this story. Being so out of the way and staked out on his own, while normally a solid way to stay safe, was his death warrant because he was too far from one of the special Mutts to land a kill in time. As always, fun to write for, but this is where he dies in this timeline.


	7. 7: The One with the Forest Fire

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

 **Note:** I gotta say, I'm surprised at how fast I was able to get this one done considering how long it is, but then again I do tend to blaze through these chapters when I feel motivated so maybe I ought to not feel that surprised? Either way, we enter day seven of the Games and the one week mark in-universe. Things are getting intense and more dangerous all the time, but just how bad can it get? After all, it can always get worse~. Read on, and find out for yourselves!

* * *

You know, they say you'll never truly be able to understand the value of something until you don't have it anymore. That, until you have been deprived of something basic, you will never be able to appreciate it.

Well, I have no idea who the 'they' being referred to are, but I can't say I disagree with the statement. After all, I'm now really starting to see just how valuable it is to have two feet to walk on. Reduced to a slow stumble, I must look a sorry sight right now. I can't run and I need a branch to stay standing properly.

This is the life of I, Sickle Wheatly. Not so much living fast and dying young as hobbling slow and dying slower. At least the fly bites and the wounds from the fog have stopped causing me pain my now. My foot's still killing me though – for all I know, maybe literally – though Sable assures me it will get better with the proper care. I'm not convinced though.

"We've been walking since the sun started to rise," Sable says, still walking beside me. She still sounds broken. "I've not been to this part of the Arena before… you sure this is the right way?"

"Sure I'm sure," I tell her. "As sure of this as I am that Nine is having another Victor this year."

That is to say, I'm aiming for it and refuse to think about any other outcome that may be more likely at this point. It seems to be good enough for Sable though as she just nods, still following me. She looks depressed and empty, too tired to say anything. Though, it's not a lack of sleep that has her tired. Just a lack of hope and any kind of good feeling.

"...If it means much, you don't need to feel too bad about the punji stick trap," I tell her. "Tamora's alive. She'll, uh, walk it off. Like I am, and my foot got it worse than hers did."

"But I didn't cause your foot to be hurt. It's my fault her foot got spiked," she replies, pale as a ghost.

I sigh, passing Sable a meal bar.

"Well, you set up a trap. It may have been to get an animal but it's not like it's impossible for people to get stuck in it," I say. I mean really, am I wrong here? "Only way to not risk a trap hurting a person is to not build the trap at all. Wish I knew how to make punji stick traps. That sounds useful."

"...It's not hard, really," Sable says after a pause.

And so she tells me how to do it. Really, it's not hard at all now that I'm having it blatantly spelt out to me. Hidden pit, sharp spikes I can make from branches and my knife… yeah, that could work. Might make Clove easier to deal with if she fell into something like that. From there, just a tazer and a stab away from being the Victor.

It's slow progress – painfully slow, and my foot is the proof this is literal – but little by little things are starting to look somewhat familiar. I'd worried we had been going off course, and we probably did at some points to be honest, but I can see a huge amount of death around us now. Might have been toxic rain that did or, or that horrible fog. Maybe even both? But, the damaged trees and dead bushes and smaller plants prove it was one of them. We're on the right track to Callico's cave.

"Think he's nearby?" Sable asks.

"He might be," I say. "Last I saw him, well, he was sleeping as he'd left before I woke up yesterday. I saw the Careers a little bit battered though. He'd been able to fight them off, so after that he's probably resting up in his cave. He gets a lot of Sponsors, and if he's popular with the Capitol viewers then he's likely gonna be left alone for a while. The less they like somebody the sooner they die. The Capitol viewers are murderers in their own special way."

"...I doubt they like you very much," she tells me anxiously.

"You'd be right, and I'd say I don't really care," I chuckle, shrugging. "I got sponsored something for my foot with what little Sponsors I do have and that's good enough for me. Up ahead, we'll get what we need. No need for Sponsors."

Of course, it may not be that simple. No, it certainly won't be. They could easily do something to block off the supplies in the cave if they wanted to. Maybe a rockfall to crush me or suffocate me right as I grab a medical kit, for extra irony? Ironic deaths usual make the highlights, and they'd want to make a spectacle out of me.

Sable though, compared to me, isn't somebody they have any interest in killing off. The openly rebellious spitfire overrides the grieving pacifist. Maybe she could run in to grab some of the best stuff while I district Seneca and provoke him again? I guess I'll decide on the spot once we get there.

Maybe it'll go fine, and Callico will be there to lend us a hand? I'll keep my weapons in hand of course, but of those who are still alive he's one of those I don't feel as wary of killing me just yet. He certainly _could_ , but I just think he won't.

"Hey Sickle," Sable says quietly.

"Yeah?" I reply.

"...How did Calico fight off the Careers when he's just fourteen, and from Eight? It makes no sense," she says. Even when full of sheer grief, she has it in her to be suspicious.

I can't disagree there, as I'm suspicious of this as well.

"...I'm not sure," I say, shrugging with my arm that I'm not using to hold my walking stick. "I just try not to get too distracted by that kind of thing."

"What if he tries to hurt us?" she continues, uneasy.

"Then I'll do whatever I need to do to survive and get the supplies," I say, nodding to the bladed whip in my right hand. "I don't think we'll have to worry about that though."

"Why? Because he won't attack, or because you are confident you could… protect us?" Sable asks, sounding scared as she eyes my weapon.

"Yes," is all I say in response.

And then, we just keep walking. No more words are really needing to be spoken after all. All we can do is head to our destination, not get killed when we get there and then plan out whatever comes next. I'd suggest that Sable goes and hides somewhere far away – maybe the swamp? - while me, well, I might go to the Cornucopia. Get rid of more Career supplies and check in with Miller.

Maybe eliminate somebody from the pack.

Thinking about the pack as it is now, Miller is kind of with them, I think, but even without him that's one third one of us in the Pack. That's bad. Perhaps Miller and I could plan something out together? We might be able to take out Tamora at least or, if we're really skilled, then maybe Marvel?

I say skilled as luck hasn't got much to do with it when you fight a Career. Not to me. Either you're dead, or you're better than them and skilfully overcome them. Until my foot is fixed up though, I'd be the former most likely.

"...You scared too?" Sable asks me.

"I just try not to give them any satisfaction," is my answer to her.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

We're just about here now. I know where we are – that makes a welcome change from the norm – and Callico's cave should be right ahead of us. Just past the trees ahead of us and then up a short slope. Walking stick or not, I can handle that much.

"Think his supplies will help your foot?" Sable asks. "Your sponsor gift helped, but it's gonna take a lot to get it back to the way it was."

"They better help. They just better had," I say, sighing. "At least your food issue is going to be sorted out. Hope you like rations and basic food, as it's sure not gonna be Capitol cake in the cave."

"Right now, any food is good food," Sable says, a hand on her gut. "I've never been a very picky eater. Ever since the Games have begun… I just keep getting hungry, and sick. Maybe I'm going crazy inside, or I poisoned myself."

"Couldn't tell you for sure," I reply, not sure what to say. We're all losing weight from all the fighting to the death and fleeing, so maybe that's the reason? "Ok, just up the slope and then a straight walk ahead, I think."

It makes me a fair bit of slow stumbling, but I reach the top of the slope. I'll admit, Sable helped me reach the top, not even needing me to ask her. Um, not that I was going to ask! Yep, this is the right place. Just over there is Callico's cave and from where I stand I can see all the life sustaining, and maybe foot fixing, spoils that lay within. I can't see Callico around here though… is he off hunting the Careers? Every hit against their flesh helps me out a bunch, so I'd approve of this.

"So, I'll keep watch for danger," I say. "You go and grab the supplies. Food and medical stuff over everything else, though water is good too."

"Ok, I think I can handle that," Sable says as she starts to approach the cave. She sniffles as she does so. No way is her mood every going to increase for as long as she may live. "Oh, look, berries. I know these ones, they're not poisonous."

"Sweet, we can collect some of those too," I say, nodding.

Hunger gets the better of Sable and she begins to eat numerous berries off of the bush. The Hunger Games earn their name, don't they? Well, I'll let her, what harm could it do, right? Wait… hmmm, am I forgetting something here? It feels like I am…

"What was it Callico said about that bush?" I ask out loud, curling a finger around a lack of my orange hair. "Something-something rope… rope! Sable, careful!"

My words do no good though. Sable had stepped forwards to grab some berries out of her initial range, and now she screams in alarm as the rope snare yanks her off of her feet and leaves her stuck upside down. She looks at me, pleading.

"I know you want to be the last one standing, and I know I said I didn't have long left before I'd die, but please get me down," she says, begging. "I don't want to die like this..."

It'd be one less person to have to keep track of, and if I did kill Sable I might get more Sponsors. I have very few after all. But, letting the blood flow to her head and her dying over hours would be a sick way to go. And she did help me after the Cato Mutt mangled me up.

Why am I even debating this? I'm gonna help her, it's the… right thing to do.

"Hold on, I'm coming," I say, moving towards Sable as fast as I can. Not very. "Ok, I'm gonna need you to relax, alright? I'll need to throw my knife at the rope. I can't climb with my foot messed up."

"I'll be still," Sable mumbles, not moving a muscle.

Before I can even start to aim the knife, Sable moves. Or rather, she falls to the ground in a heap, landing with a yelp in the berry bush. After all, a knife was thrown with skill from somewhere behind me, severing the rope.

I can't even start to panic that Clove is near or ready my weapon before a voice speaks out.

Instantly I relax.

"Sorry about that," Callico says as he walks up. "That wasn't meant for you. It was meant for the Careers to fall into."

"It's ok," Sable says wearily as she gets back to her feet, looking more than a bit nervous. "Um, Callico, right?"

"That's me," he says, nodding. "District Eight's guy this year, and a Volunteer. Feel free to speculate why, everybody else does. Haha! Here, let me help."

Callico offers Sable a hand. She takes it and lets him pull her back to her feet.

"Any wounds?" he asks. "I got way more supplies in the cave than I need. Help yourselves."

"We were gonna," I say, smirking. "Uh, got anything for this?"

I point to what used to be my left foot. Callico makes a noise of pain just looking at it.

"Oooohhh, that's bad," he says with a shake of his head. "Capitol doctors would do you one better than me, but I'll see what I have."

Callico runs into the cave and begins rooting through a large sack with red plsu sign crudely painted onto it. From this, clearly the medical bag.

"So, why the rope snare for the Careers?" I ask. "They come this way often?"

"Uh, well, no," Callico says. "But, better to be prepared. A trap in a berry bush could easily doom a Career if they were alone."

"And why's that?" I ask.

"Food is gonna run out eventually, right?" he says, not looking at me as he continues to look through the sack. "Careers can kill as good as I can make hats – _very_ good – but they almost never ever know anything about survival, like how to find food if their supplies run out or get destroyed. I figure if this thing goes on long enough and they run out of gear, they'll get starving and desperate. And then, they see the berries and give in to hunger. Whoosh! Off their feet, and out of my way. I'd not even need to be here for it which… well, that's good as I'd not want to see the results of the trap."

"Same here," Sable agrees quietly. "Got any food?"

"Catch!" he says, tossing container of some sort to Sable. She fumbles, but manages to grab it. "It's got meal bars a-plenty in it. Fresh bread too, and a chicken leg."

Sable seems hungrier after hearing this description. As for me, now I'm hoping I can locate some more rope. Perhaps setting up rope snares would be the best course of action now? The Careers cannot kill me if they're hanging upside down five miles away from me, after all. Only thing is, how do I set down a rope snare? ...Easy fix, Callico could tell me how.

"Hey Callico, how do-," I begin.

"Hold that thought," he says, grabbing something in the sack. "Ok, I'm not a doctor so don't take my words to be fact, but I think I have what you need for that mangled foot of yours."

And so, Callico passes me a metal container. It's circular and of small size – it fits in the palm of my hand perfectly – and has a strange odour coming from it. I pop off the cap, and inside is a paste of some kind. It's a light shade of peachy orange with a few dull purple specks in it. Obviously medical cream, but what does it do? Fix mangled feet, I hope.

"Dab a bit of that on and it regrows flesh," Callico explains. "Pretty nifty."

Nifty is one word for it. 'How is this even bloody possible?!' is another… ok, fine, six others but the point still stands. I'm not gonna question it though. I'm quickly kneeling down and rubbing the stuff into my mangled and throbbing foot. It sucks I have to take the bandages off first but soon enough the mixture is doing its job. I can't see my flesh growing back or anything, and I'd guess it won't be a quick fix as that'd be too easy. But, the pain is going away. All of it! I even feel a pleasant tingle inside my gnawed ankle. I feel revitalised!

Wait… revitalised? Is that even a word?

Ah, who cares! My foot isn't fucked anymore! I can't help but giggle in sheer relief as I get back up. I'm gonna still need the branch to move for a bit, and really the thing I need most is still a Capitol doctor, but at least now I might be able to run – or maybe just fast walk – before the 'finale' arrives. That could save my life.

"...Thanks Callico," I say. I can't help but be grateful. I'm sure my expression is shy and awkward right now. But, I owe him one. "This might have saved me."

"Not a problem," he says, smirking. "I mean, my own rule you know? Try to help out anybody I can if they're struggling."

"I'm wasn't struggling, I was just having a bit of a bad day!" I huff, crossing my arms. This makes me almost fall over due to no longer leaning on the branch. "Aaahh! ...Rule huh? I saw Marvel and heard him say you did a number on him."

Callico looks downright mischievous right now.

"Ah, but rule number one is overruled by rule number two which _clearly_ states that if somebody tries to murder me than I must fight them off," he says, smirking as he gives me a wink.

"As for me, my rule is that I cannot die no matter what anybody, Tribute or man-of-a-dumb-beard, try to do to me," I say, giving Callico a wink in return.

For a few minutes, we just talk and joke around. Nothing too serious, besides Sable standing off to the side with gloom in her eyes. It's nice, being able to just talk to people my age for a bit and not think about how they're going to have to die. Oh dammit, there I go thinking of it again. At least when Callico mentions how he pelted Clove with a few acorns before she noticed him I'm back to laughing once again.

"This is nice," I say. "And not just because my foot isn't as busted."

"Like I said, we may be in The Hunger Games but no reason to now show some humanity," Callico says, smiling.

"...Agreed," Sable mumbles quietly. "...Wait, that smell. You guys smell it too, right?"

I pause and smell the air, as does Callico. Still the same forest scent I've grown accustomed to since the Games began, but now it has something extra to it as well. Some hot, and burning.

Smoke.

Wait, smoke? Where there is smoke, there is fire. I can barely bring myself to look behind me, but when I do I see it. There's no missing it really. A huge wall of fire advancing towards us, crackling loudly and consuming all in its path. It's massive, and no doubt caused by the Gamemakers… way, what am I doing just standing here!? It's a wall of friggin' fire!

"Run!" I yell, hobbing off as quick as I can force myself to go. Barely over the speed of a slow jog, nowhere near a sprint.

"What about all the supplies?" Sable exclaims.

"Not worth your life!" Callico tells her as he speeds ahead of me.

I try to keep up with Callico – clearly, a lot cause – and as I flee from the fire I make a quick glance over my shoulder. Sable has chosen to run into the cave to grab more supplies.

"Sable! Come on!" I yell, practically pleading.

Sable swiftly runs out again but now the fire has moved to block her from joining me. With a scream, she turns and runs away in the opposite direction of me. She vanishes amongst the trees, her arms full of supplies, with some of the fire moving after her.

I hope she escapes the inferno, but right now I'm hoping for my own safety moreso. If the fire catches me, I'm dead. If I inhale too much smoke then I am also dead, either from how it would damage my lungs or make me fall down in a daze for the fire to catch up on. And this isn't getting into the usual fireballs that come with this kind of trap.

Callico is getting far ahead of me. I'd call for him to wait for me, but why should he? After all, it's his life that comes first, same as how I've always felt my own comes first. I hate feeling helpless, reduced to hobbling with the flames looming behind me.

I'm getting scared now. There's actually a seriously high chance I might be about to die in the flames. Nonononono!

"Sickle! Come on!" Callico yells from ahead of me.

"I'm trying!" I scream as I reach a slope. "In the name of Mizar!"

I jump forwards.

Now, I'm tumbling down the slope. Painful, but right now what I need is to be fast, and if being fast enough to escape the fire means suffering some pain, I'll take it. Better than being dead.

"Aaaahhh..." I gasp out in pain.

I'm fighting to even get myself up to my feet. Smoke is starting to gather in the forest, and I can't help but breath some of it in. Right now it's not hurting me, but it won't take more than just a few short breaths before I'll be lose to passing out. And unlike the last time I passed out, I won't be waking up this time. I'll be burnt to ashes! Scorched to nothing!

Like Katniss was, I'll be the Girl on Fire. Unlike her though, the flames I'll be set ablaze with won't be just for show. They'll bloody well hurt!

"Callico, where are you!" I call.

"Over here!" I hear Callico say from somewhere north-west of me. "No! No! Not over here! There's no way out over here and-AAARRRGGHHHHH!"

I hear the screams, the horrible screams, but no cannon. Callico must have taken a burn but managed to stay alive all the same. He's faster than me and has his mysteriously gained skills. He'll be fine here, I just need to focus on myself.

"Maybe over there?" I say, coughing as I limp my way further downhill.

I know how to start a fire. I know how to properly put out a campfire. I even know what wood to use to make less smoke. But evading a massive forest fire? That training station had been absent, and I'm feeling a bit angry over that right now. That and frightened. What do I do!? _What do I do_?! The fire is spreading this way after me, so do I go _that_ way? It's not going to the right of me. I start hobbling, but one look back after a few moments going this way just shows the fire is following me and closing in. The smoke is getting thicker now and I'm starting to feel a bit dazed and floaty.

But there it is, ahead of me. The golden sunshine practically glows as the forest opens up to a clearing that is notably not ablaze. That must be the way out! I just have to live long enough to _reach_ it!

"Callico!" I yell, my voice coming out as a rasp. "Over here! There's an exit!"

Maybe it's the smoke making me feel more dazed than I already was a minute ago, but I can't hear him respond. I think I hear a screaming somewhere behind me, but it's suddenly stopped. There wasn't a cannon though, so perhaps I just imagined the whole thing? I bet Callico just took a few burns and made it to safety. Maybe he's already been sponsored some cream for the burns? How lucky can a guy even be, right?

The fire is so near, so close I almost feel its horrible caress against my flesh. The smoke is all over the place, but the exit, it's right there! Just a little further! Almost made it!

I fall, my branch snapping apart from the repeatedly force put onto it. I wasn't even able to stumble a few paces before my face meets the dirt. I try to crawl, but I'm barely able to move. I bet it won't even be half a minute before the flames reach my feet and then burn the rest of me until all that remains is smoking ash.

I can't help but start to cry as I scream, fighting to drag myself precious inches forwards. It's finally hitting me, once and for all. _I am about to die_. I'll die, unable to do anything. Unable to destroy these horrible Games. Unable to save so many children. Just a girl from Nine burnt to a crisp, and turn into barely a footnote on this year's Hunger Games.

I manage to clear my throat just enough to scream for help. I shriek out a call for somebody, anybody to help me. I think I do anyway. That's what I thought I wanted to say.

Instead, my last call for help comes out as ,"PEETA!"

A few seconds pass by, sweat pouring down my face. I can no longer move. I hear something though, and it's not the cracking of flames or the sound of burning plants. It sounds like footsteps. Somebody trying to smash down anything in their path. I hear a funny noise… I think whatever they're saying begins with an 'S'. I'm barely conscious anymore as I hear a distant boom… was it a cannon, or just a falling tree, no doubt on fire?

Suddenly, I'm moving. But, my legs are limp so how can I be? I vaguely here what might be something telling me to not worry and that I'm safe now. I'm dazed, really 'zonked' as some Nine kids say. All I know is I think I'm being carried along by somebody moving faster than the fires that loom behind us.

I can barely make out anything. Just a strong figure holding me, with what I think might be courage on their face? Not that I can make out their face at all.

"...Mom?" I manage to wheeze out. "...Dad…?"

As daylight and the cool afternoon breeze hits me, everything gets dark and all sounds vanish.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

When I start to become slightly aware of the world around me – proof that, somehow, I am not dead just yet – I feel really sore. My throat stings, I feel burnt here and there even though I'm not conscious enough to know exactly where and, most notably, a wet cloth has been placed over my face.

What's going on? What happened? I thought I was going to be incinerated, and then suddenly I wasn't. Did somebody find me just in time? Ok, now I remember… oh boy, with how out of it I was I called my saviour 'mum' or 'dad' as I thought it had been them. This is going to be awkward if whoever saved me brings that up.

Wearily, I sit up, though I'm still very dazed. But my vision is at least a lot clearer now, and I can see that I'm in a cave. Outside, it's raining – wish it had been raining earlier! - and I can hear the low rumbles of thunder. I'd guess the Careers are having a lousy time hunting, or they are taking shelter at the Cornucopia.

"Welcome back to the land of the doomed living," a voice says.

I try to respond but my words are raspy. I mumble a thank you as the person passes me a half empty bottle of water. After I gulp it down I feel slightly better, enough that I can now focus on who was speaking to me.

Miller gives me a wave.

"Miller," I say, smiling. "Good to see you. Um… ok, this may be a big thing for me to ask but please tell me Clove is not outside the cave, ready to gut me like a fish."

"Nah, I deserted the Careers," Miller says, taking my empty bottle and tossing it outside. "I think that alliance has run its course for me."

"What was the tipping point?" I ask. If Miller ditched them, I don't mind. Maybe he'll work with me for a day or two?

"The fact less than ten of us are left," Miller replies. "I was guarding the Cornucopia like they made me and then that announcement happened. I knew it was time to move on so I grabbed everything I wanted, and got rid of a bunch of stuff they needed. I was one of the first to find a special Mutt – I don't want to speak of who it resembled – and since then I've just been surviving."

"Me too," I say. "Except I was one of the last to find a Mutt and my foot was mangled by its teeth. And then… wait a second..."

I sit up properly and look at Miller. He makes an awkward sound, kind of like a startled chicken, when I hug him.

"You saved me from the fire," I whisper.

Miller looks pleased, but also a bit more awkward.

"Well, uh, I was the one who heard you calling first," Miller says, glancing out at the rain for a moment. "But it wasn't me that actually ran in and got you out of danger."

"Then, who did?" I ask. "You weren't alone?"

"Nope. I, uh, found somebody who claims to be a friend of yours," Miller says, nodding. "Peeta. We came across each other after he escaped some poison fog and killed a special Mutt near the start of the event. He wanted to find you and I decided it'd be a good idea to help. Looks like both of us were just in time. He said there was a cave near where the poison fog happened full of supplies you might have gone back to."

"...Peeta..." I say, smiling. He came to save me, even amongst flames.

I'd be dead if it wasn't for Peeta being there. I'm feeling warm, though it's not the fire or the burns.

"You're blushing," Miller notes, smirking.

"I most certainly am _not_!" I huff, probably blushing more.

"I think you most certainly am _are_ ," my District Partner teases.

I just scowl, probably not that convincingly, and let myself lay back with a huff.

"It hurts all over," I mumble. "Is… Peeta alive? I need to see him... say thank you."

"He went to try and find us some food," Miller says. "Most of your supplies got burnt and a fireball took out a lot of mine."

"Oh no..." I groan. "And my weapons? They gone too, Miller"

"You still have the bladed whip, and a knife too," he assures me. "Peeta didn't have much, but what he did have ended up surviving. He said the Mutt he faced took out a lot of his stuff."

"Lovely," I remark. "Any sponsors?"

"None yet," he says, looking unhappy. "Eight of us left, so the prices are only going to get more stupid from here on in."

"Maybe if we're _really_ good we'll get a cracker," I say, flatly.

As we sit here, listening to the rain and thunder outside, I suddenly realise something. Two things actually. First, Peeta's out in this shitty weather to find food for us. A guy like that… I didn't think Panem had them, honestly. Maybe if I was a bit older, or him a bit younger, or neither of us minded the cameras… no, no, _**bad**_ Sickle, do not start thinking those kind of thoughts! No!

Second, and the more important thing right now… Miller says there are eight of us left. Sixteen dead, and the rest in the top third of the Games. I guess that's good, but that means somebody has died. Who got killed when I was unconscious? Miller's right here, and Peeta's out there now so they're fine, but…

I heard a cannon. Just before I passed out, I am _sure_ I heard one.

I can't help but sniffle for a moment. That huge fire… it failed to claim my life, but it must have killed Callico. I heard him scream. The mysterious and altruistic boy from Eight is dead. He must have been burnt to death much like I almost was. He didn't deserve that!

Though, some tiny part of me thinks maybe he is alive? Sable was also chased by fire when she went the other way. It could've been her. Not that I like the thought of the grieving pacifist burning alive, screaming in pain. Sure, I could try to come up with logic for why it may have been somebody else, but no. It's pretty obvious one of those two is dead now, more likely Callico than Sable.

"What's wrong?" Miller asks. "In pain?"

"Very," I say. After all, these burns are _nasty_. "But… that fire, I wasn't the only one there. Callico went one way, and Sable went the other. There was a cannon, so one of them is dead. I just… crap! They deserved better!"

"When you think about it, we all do," Miller replies. "Who do you think it was?"

"Callico," I say. "I don't know what's worse. A horrible death like that happening to him after how he was never anything but sweet and helpful to people… or the fact I feel a selfish relief he's gone because there would never be any way I'd ne able to beat him in a fight at the end. Miller, am I a bad person?"

"I think you're human," Miller says. "And no human is truly a good person. Just… good enough."

"...I guess in the end, we can only try to be good enough," I say, laying back down a bit further and looking up at the roof of the cave.

Miller gets him moving to stand by the entrance of the cave, a large axe in hand.

"Try to rest a bit. You're pretty messed up," he tells me, looking at the rain. "I'll keep watch for a bit."

I make some sound of acknowledgement. I'll try to rest, but I know I'm not gonna be able to sleep or anything. I can just try to feel less awful, inside and out. Key word is try, as it hurts all over and I doubt much will change that.

I'm not sure how long it is that I lay here – maybe an hour? - but eventually Miller makes a noise of some kind. Looking up, I see he's not ready to fight though. With a wave, he greets Peeta who enters the cave with a bag of plants, though I don't know what kinds they are.

Wait, Peeta's back! ...Hmm, better act natural. I don't want to come off as weird about this.

"...What's up?" I ask quietly. Oh good going Sickle, real smooth that was!

Peeta instantly drops his bag and kneels beside me. I can see the relief on his face, it's so clear for me to see. Is it just me, or is he holding himself back from giving me a hug?

"I'm glad you're safe," he says, smiling. "I was almost too late..."

"But, you weren't," I say, unable to quite look Peeta in the eye. "...I think you showed you're more than just a piece in their Games."

"Just what I wanted, huh?" he says, smiling. It seems me being conscious again has helped him relax. "You've been out of it for a few hours. Not a huge amount happened in that time, just this rainstorm starting."

"That, and us being almost entirely out of supplies," Miller says. "Maybe for an hour or two it won't be a big deal, but we're gonna be here for days yet. Well, I hope. We need more."

"I found some stuff we can eat," Peeta says. "I'm fairly sure I did anyway. Enough to last us for tonight."

"I'll check it out," Miller says. "I did pretty well at the edible plants station. Cinder aced it and she told me stuff when she was… well..."

Miller doesn't continue. He just empties the bag of plants Peeta gathered and begins to carefully check everything over. As he does so, Peeta moves to sit by me.

"...How have you been since we were last together?" he asks, glancing at my foot.

"That 'special Mutt' had especially sharp teeth," I state. I doubt either of us want to focus on the Arena Event. I have a suspicion which dead Tribute it was that Peeta's Mutt had resembled. "I also nearly become a literal girl on fire after I ran my mouth a few times too many. It's not been good."

"I think your lack of a filter could be your undoing," Peeta says quietly.

"You'd think I'd learn by now, huh?" I say, sighing to myself.

And then, I give Peeta a hug. I can't help but bury my face against his shoulder as I embrace him.

"Thank you..." I whisper.

Peeta hugs me back, thankfully gentle so as to not hurt my burn marks. They're already painful enough without any force added to them.

"Bread can burn. People shouldn't," he replies quietly. "You're welcome."

"Guys, we have a problem," Miller says suddenly.

We sit up to see what has gone wrong _this_ time. Miller holds out a few berries in his hand, looking wary over merely holding them.

"These are Nightlock," he explains. "The tiniest bit of these inside you, even a speck of the juice, and you're dead before you realise it. They've touched the rest of the stuff that would otherwise be safe. We can't eat this without killing ourselves."

Peeta groans, looking shamefaced as Miller tosses the contaminated food out into the rain. I just sit quietly, unhappy. Hurting, and soon to be very hungry, it's a dark day in the Arena. And the rainfall is going to make it harder to find anything as any animals will be taking shelter and it'll make the terrain muddy and slippy, so even looking for plants could become hazardous.

"I'm sorry," Peeta says. "I really thought they were blueberries."

For a few minutes, we just sit here not doing or anything much of anything. No cannons fire, so nothing about our position is changing.

"So… what do we do now?" I ask eventually. "We can't just give up and sit here doing nothing. That's what _they_ want."

Peeta seems uncertain, while Miller looks thoughtful.

"There is one thing we could do," he says. "...There is still plenty of stuff at the Cornucopia. Enough for us to steal and live off of for a while. In fact, Sickle, I think I saw some burn cream there as well."

"...I'm in," Peeta says after a few seconds to think it over.

"The Career pack might be there," I say, sitting up. "It'll be three on three, and the odds won't be in our favour. All three could kill us from a range."

"Three on two. I think me and Peeta should do this one while you stay here," Miller says, before holding up his hands. "Its just, you're battered Sickle. Burnt, bruised, mangled foot… you'd be walking to your execution. I think you'd be safer here."

"Yeah, until a Mutt 'accidentally' wanders by," I say, rolling my eyes. I know Miller is right though… I can't take on Clove or Marvel like this. Maybe not even Tamora. "...I'll stay. But, I absolutely _forbid_ you guys to get killed!"

"Well, now I **really** can't get killed," Peeta says, managing to smirk.

"We'll be alright," Miller says. "I know where every item has been placed. They may not even be there, and if they are I think we'll be able to do something to lure them away and grab what we need."

"How long will you be?" I ask.

"Maybe three hours?" Peeta says. "It's not that far to the Cornucopia really, but in this weather it'll take longer than usual."

"So, we better be off right now," Miller says, standing up with his axe in hand. "I'd say we should gear up, but..."

Miller trails off, his point clear. We don't have that much gear left. In fact, the Careers might not have as much now either. Rain like this could have taken out some of it. So long as we've got more than them, we can make this work. A hungry Career is usually a dead Career.

"Too bad Callico's cave probably has nothing left," I say, shaking my head. "The fire probably destroyed everything, and anything that survived was already grabbed by Sable."

"Any idea where she is?" Peeta asks.

"No idea," I say. "She might be dead. There was a cannon, and it was either her or Callico. All that's left is us, the Careers and then Sable or Callico and Marina in the middle."

"It's winding down," he replies, looking uneasy. After all, it always gets worse when only a few are left.

If the worst is yet to come, then suddenly I feel even worse considering how so far I've lost most of my left foot and nearly been incinerated. How do people in the Capitol watch this crap willingly?

"Before you guys go, could you get me some branches?" I request.

"Any reason why?" Miller asks.

"I'm gonna make a punji stick trap in case somebody, or something, comes this way," I reply. "Don't worry, I'll point it out when you get back so you don't step into it."

Miller fetches me some branches and, with assurances they'll be fine, the two boys leave. I watch them leave from my spot at the mouth at the cave. As they vanish from my sight into the forest, I can see that I've not been in this area before. The river flows along nearby, much faster than normal due to the rainstorm, and the trees stand tall. It's hard to see much more of note while I'm in the cave, but there's no signs of any burnt forest… how far did Peeta carry me from the inferno?

...I now realise I don't have it in me to kill Peeta. I don't. That kind of pure selflessness, I don't think I could take down a guy who would do something like that for me, especially in the Hunger Games. Saving your District Partner from that kind of danger is one thing, but saving somebody from another District? Unheard of, or at least extremely rare.

"Why do you have to be so likeable?" I say, pouting a little. "Well, not an issue for today at least."

And so, I take hold of my knife and get to work on making the trap. It's slow, steady progress and nothing too hard. Kind of relaxing actually. Just a gradual job of making the branches into very sharp spikes. Like small spears. I'd say it's probably boring to watch, but the Capitol citizens laugh at anything, really. Who knows, maybe they're sponsoring me right now?

Once I have eight punji sticks made I crawl over to just in front of the cave to dig out a bit of the muddy ground with my hands – no shovel or trowel after all – and then put the sharp spikes into place. It doesn't look half bad, though I'm not really an expert. Just working off of what Sable told me.

"Now for the covering," I say. After all, the spikes are in plain sight. Nobody would fall for it, probably.

Dead leaves lay around the mouth of the cave, so it's not exactly hard to get enough of them to hide the trap. Actually, it's simple. I spread a few more of them around the mud, just to make the spot where the trap is hidden a bit less suspicious, and soon I lay back with the job done.

"Not bad," I say to myself.

But now, the hard part. Waiting. It'll be hours yet until Peeta and Miller are back and I don't really have anything to do in that time. I can't really get around by myself without a branch to use as a walking stick, least of all in this downpour. Plus, I'm probably not going to be sponsored anything… satisfying as it has been to mock the Gamemakers and Capitol as a whole, it's not helped with Sponsors at all. I'm on my own here, more or less.

Plus, as much as Id like to take a nap, it's a senseless risk. A mutt could attack me at any time, or another Tribute. The Careers may 'accidentally' find me and make a real mess of me.

I yawn a little, my bladed whip in hand. I'll have to wait this one out until the boys are back.

"It'd be nice if you Gamemakers could play some music for us," I say after a while. "You can play the Anthem, how hard would it be to play a bit of rock?"

Sadly, the only rock we'll be getting is a rockfall designed to kill us. Not one I'd want, that's for sure.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

It's been two hours now, maybe longer – I don't have a watch, so I can't say for sure – and I'm still alone. No sign of Peeta or Miller. Then again, Peeta said they'd be about three hours so it's not really a surprise or anything. The downpour is still going on, so fast travel isn't going to be happening.

"It's nice to be dry, but I don't like feeling helpless like this," I say, sighing as I look down. "I should be there helping, not just left here out of danger. Just feels like the coward's way out."

I bop myself a little.

"Why am I talking like this?" I ask out loud. "Not like I'd be that much help in my current state anyway."

I glance at my 'foot'. Hey, cool! It looks like that stuff Callico gave me, and what I got sponsored yesterday, is working. It's not hurting at all now and a bunch of my flesh has come back. Not a complete fix and it's gonna take quite a while of waiting before my foot is back to normal – without a doctor, probably over a month – but, it's a good start.

"Not bad," I say, smiling as I flex the parts that were my toes. "...Maybe I could've made a difference going along after all. Perhaps I could've-."

I'm cut off very suddenly as a cannon fires, echoing through the Arena. For a moment, the rainstorm feels quieter before it picks up once more.

Somebody else is dead. Seventeen dead. Just seven left.

"...Peeta?!" I squeal, now worried. "Miller?! Oh nononono..."

I'm silent for a few tense minutes, but there is no second cannon. Just the one and no more. As the seconds tick by I start to relax.

"Maybe they're fine," I say, taking a deep breath in and out. "If they ran into trouble, it would've probably been both of them. Of course, the same is true for the Careers. Hmm… maybe it was Sable, or Callico, or Marina? Yeah, maybe."

I'm starting to relax again, though I can't really calm down until the boys return. Or, until the Anthem. Whichever comes first I guess. A step closer to the crown, and I didn't have to do anything… I guess it works out, but I still feel pretty grim over the thought of how the unknown person met their end. A sharp blade, a trap, a Mutt?

"Just gonna not think about it," I decide.

And so, I don't. I simply lay back, trying to let myself rest a bit as I watch the rainstorm. I don't mind the rain much, really. It can be beautiful to watch, and a rainbow is always a wonderful sight to see. Another reason to stay alive. But eventually, even the rainstorm begins to lose any appeal it has. I suspect it only has appeal as I'm not stuck out there in it like most of the others probably are. Well, I'll take being bored over being soaked to the bone.

I heard something. A rustle of some kind from somewhere nearby. I'm quickly sitting up, my bladed whip rightly held in my hand. I stay silent, not giving myself away. I can't hear a growl or anything to signal a Mutt. No, just slow walking and what I think is a light pained groaning.

"A tribute," I say, quietly. "But, who?"

I'm about to relax – after all, the boys could be back – but then I realise, it's one person in pain. Oh nonono! Did one of them die…? Or, is it a lone Career?

I don't get a chance to theorise anymore as Marina comes into view. I can see she has spotted me, and I think she might be up for a fight. It's hard to tell though, as she looks more pained and miserable than focused and ready for battle. Much of her skin is a searing red from the toxic rain and a fair few clumps of her hair are now missing. She's got bruises on her legs and a few cuts on her arms on her, some looking fresh, and her expression is tormented. I'm not sure is she is totally sane right now. Besides a small bag slung over her shoulder, all she has is her serrated sword. She holds it tightly and as she approaches my cave, I see it has some blood still on it.

Question is… is that the blood of a Mutt, or of her tiny District Partner? I can't tell, though I guess truthfully I don't want to know either.

"So… been a while since I saw you last," I say.

Marina just nods, holding her sword tighter.

"How are things for you?" I continue. After all, if I keep talking maybe I can stall her from attacking so I can get myself in a better position. "For me, well enough except the fact I can't really walk anymore."

I nod at my left foot as I say this. Healing or not, it's still busted.

"Things are… fine," Marina says. Naturally, that's a lie.

"Fine enough that you'd leave without trying to kill me?" I suggest. "I'd rather not fight you right now. You look messed up enough without me having to do anything."

Marina shakes, looking like she's going to crack.

"The toxic rain, it got me _really_ bad," she mutters. "You helped Peeta, but did nothing for me! Though, neither did my District. I've got gotten any sponsors at all. It was me or Urchin… and he was dead either. I never wanted to do it, never! I knew him pretty well back home in Four, but… it was either him or both of us. I've been in searing pain for days, all over! I'm always burning, and I keep getting hurt! Bites, punches, falling… it never ends! Never, never, never, never, never!"

Yep, she's lost it. As Marina starts to cry, I can't help but feel uneasy though… this is really horrible to see, witnessing how far this girl has fallen. And yet, she doesn't give up no matter the pain and suffering. I can't help but relate to that. But, whatever her struggles I'm not letting her kill me.

"It'll only get worse if you try and fight me," I say coldly.

"Oh, no. It _can't_ get worse!" Marina yells, her voice cracking. "I decided on the train to the Capitol, I'd be pragmatic about these Games. All about my own survival, no matter what. I'd do what'd give me my best chance of going home. Going back to my family…"

Marina takes a deep breath as she looks at me, cold as ice. She holds her sword tighter than ever.

"You've broken rules. You've insulted the Gamemakers. I hear they want you dead," she says, stepping closer. "Whoever ends up killing you is going to get all kinds of special treatment and high odds of winning. If I can murder you, then I'll get burn cream for these wounds! Food and water! _Everything_ I need… all I have to do is strike you in the gut or the skull, and I'm not too bad with a sword. It won't be hard..."

I ready myself, making sure Marina can see my weapon. I move back just a few inches as she stares at me.

"Well, come on then!" I yell, trying to not show that I'm nervous. "Show me what you got!"

"I will!" she screeches, clearly desperate.

And so, Marina makes a firm move forwards. A costly move, as she steps right upon the punji stick trap, the spikes piercing right through her foot as though her boot was not there.

"AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!" she screams, her wail of agony no doubt able to be heard for at least a while. Hopefully the Careers don't hear it and come to investigate. "AAARRGGH!"

Marian stumbles and falls down to the ground roughly. I swing the bladed whip at her, hitting her on the hip. I'm not sure if it caused her any real damage, but Marina clearly doesn't wish to risk it anymore. She's scrambling away with tears and screams, her sword in hand, her bag left fallen and forgotten.

"I'll get you soon! I will!" she sobs.

"And I'll get you sooner," I say as I pick up a rock. "Right now in fact!"

I throw the rock after Marina as she scrambles away. It hits her smack on the back. No damage really done from this, but she scrambles off faster and quickly loses her balance. A moment later Marina has fallen into the river and is being carried away by the current. Her screams fade as she is sent further down the river, and soon only the sound of the rainstorm remains.

I listen for several long minutes, maybe even half an hour, and there is no cannon. Injured badly or not, she's clearly a powerful swimmer. Enough to stay afloat, or perhaps to get to the bank and out of the water? Either way, the Tribute number has remained at seven.

"I gotta give it to her, Marina is seriously resilient," I can't help but say. "She has my respect."

I drag myself closer to her fallen bag and pull it into the cave with me. Looks like the fight- if it could really be called that – was worth it. Maybe she had something decent in here?

"Please don't be crap," I say as I look into the bag.

Marina didn't have much, really. Two packs of dried meat, a near empty bottle of water, a pair of fingerless leather gloves and two matches, both useless due to being exposed to water.

"Not much, but it's mine now," I say as I put on the gloves and open one of the packs of meat. I'm suddenly realising how hungry I am. "Better still, it's not the Careers' stuff either."

And so, I settle back down to wait for Peeta and Miller. Hopefully not going to be long until they return. It probably won't be long until they get back. I hope it won't be at least, as it's probably not going to be more than an hour and a half-ish before it gets dark.

* * *

 **(A while later…)**

* * *

I'm worried, really worried. Nightfall has arrived, but the boys have not. I'm all alone in the cave, looking out into the darkness with my weapons in hand. Marina didn't return, and nobody else has come by. Not even a mutt. My only company is the rain, which now falls at a lot gentler of a pace.

Honestly, I'm feeling pretty uneasy that the Gamemakers haven't tried to send something at me while I've been left wide open for attack. Well, actually, there was a snake that came by before, but I stabbed the thing before it could try anything. Not enough to really be looked back on as a danger.

I'm expecting the worst for the days ahead, but right now it's hard to theorise what Seneca has in store for me next. After all, I'm worried that the worst may have happened to Peeta and Miller. Even if the cannon wasn't for either of them – personally, I'm starting to think it may have been Sable – it doesn't mean they're not laying in a ditch somewhere in the Arena, broken and only just holding on to life.

"Stop thinking about it," I tell myself firmly. "They'll be fine. What will be, will be. Remember your goal."

Twenty three traded to save thousands and thousands. But now, I'm wishing it could be a lower toll than twenty three. Perhaps twenty two, or even twenty one. But, that's not how the Hunger Games work. It's as it says in the Treaty of Treason, 'until a lone Victor remains'. Nothing can change what was written.

The minutes pass slowly, each feeling ten times its actual length. I shiver a little, feeling cold from the night. But, better cold than drenched. Still, better safe than cold. ...Where are they?

I sit upright very fast when I hear footsteps getting near. I'm silent, holding my knife at the ready. I'd hope it's Peeta and Miller, but the fact Marina found me earlier, well, it shows I can't assume anything. I just sit quietly, ready to fight until I see a reason not to. Whoever it is, I'd be able to see them before they got in range to kill me, even in the darkness of the night.

I can't stop myself sighing in relief when Peeta walks up, holding two large packs that look to be stuffed with supplies. I have to stop myself hugging him as he gets near. After all, I have to point out the trap as I said I would.

"The trap is in front of you," I warn him. "See, right there? Go around it."

"Thanks," Peeta says as he avoids the trap and, upon entering the cave, collapses next to me clearly exhausted. "I got us a bunch of stuff. Any… trouble, while I was gone?"

"Marina tried to kill me," I say. "She stepped on the punji sticks and got swept down the river. No cannon, so she must have made it out somehow."

"She was lucky," Peeta notes.

Suddenly, I notice two very clear things. How did I not notice it sooner?! Peeta was limping and looks like he's been knifed in his hip, judging by the blood stains. He has a few scratches on his face too, though they look less serious. Not only do I see his injuries… but, I see that he is alone. Where is Miller?

…

...No…

No!

"That cannon…?" is all I manage to say before I'm looking away, unwilling to show my tears.

"Yeah… Miller's dead," Peeta says, not sugar coating it. "It looked like nobody was at the Cornucopia so we moved in and grabbed what we needed. But then once we'd loaded up a lot of gear they attacked, the three of them in the pack. Marvel on one side, Clove on the other and Tamora from on top of the horn. We tried to run, tried to fight them off when they closed in… I broke Marvel's nose and Miller had hit Clove in the leg with his axe, but then it just went wrong. Tamora hit Miller with some dart that made his legs stop working right. I was barely able to get out of there, and then Clove..."

Peeta doesn't elaborate. I have no doubts that Clove really drew out his death as much as she could. I shudder at the thought of Miller's probably horrible demise. That, and how his head might be on Clove's belt now just like Rammy's is. I know he was going to have to die for me to get out of this place, but… never like that. Miller should've died with dignity and not much pain.

"I bet Clove made it as painful as she possibly could," I say. I can feel my face paling as I speak. "After how I've opposed her and caused her a lot of trouble, I bet she took it out on Miller for being my District Partner. She probably tortured him like she wants to torture me still. It's my fault he suffered."

I'm shaking, wanting to cry so very much. No, no. I can't. I won't!

"He screamed, didn't he Peeta?" I say, my voice cracking.

"...I heard the screaming from over a mile away," he says quietly. "I guess you heard the cannon and not the screams? It had been going on for about half an hour by then."

I have to swallow my vomit upon hearing that. My actions in this Arena, they led to the grisly death of somebody I'd allowed myself to care about.

"...I see," I mumble. It hurts to speak.

Peeta gently hugs me.

"It's alright if you want to cry," he says. "Nobody's gonna think less of you for showing how much you're hurting. I won't. Nobody has to be tough and strong all the time. Maybe not even Careers. Just let it out, as much as you need to."

I've tried to be tough and cold for fourteen years. Tried to never show any weakness or emotion that could be used against me later on. Even after how I felt when I killed Rue, I didn't truly break down and I managed to get it together sooner than later. I didn't even break when my foot got mangled, I kept on going with my mission.

I had a good run of it, but I can't hold it back anymore. I start to cry and soon my sobbing has become wailing, letting out all the pain and grief I've refused to ever let anybody see. I weep over it all- the horrible state of life in the Districts, the lack of parents, those who I killed and whose deaths have hurt me to watch or hear about. I can't stop. I just _can't_ stop crying. It hurts, and somehow it feels relieving too. My face is soaked and every time I stop sobbing to wipe away the tears from my wet face I'm suddenly weeping even louder than before, more tears flooding out.

I've held back this kind of feeling for so long. Is that why it's hurting so much? Why I'm unable to stop my tears? The way it comes out in one go, it's hurting so badly. But in some ways maybe I needed this. But I don't dwell on that. I don't cry over my own feelings.

I'm crying for Miller. _**He never deserved that**_! If Clove wanted payback for Cato, she should've come after me herself! Not used Miller as… as a proxy!

I don't know how long I'm sitting here, sobbing and whimpering, but Peeta gently holds me the whole time until finally the tears begin to fade. He passes me a bottle of water which I drink from quickly. It helps remove the tight feeling in my throat and suddenly I feel able to breath again. Eventually I'm silent, and only now do I realise I've been leaning myself against Peeta rather closely. Maybe a bit more than just closely, too. But, he seems not to mind.

"Feel better?" he asks me. "You don't need to say yes. If you're suffering, then let's suffer together. It's easier that way."

"… I don't feel better," I admit. "I guess I feel a little less choked up and broken now that I… well, did that. But it still hurts _so much_. I don't like people seeing me cry."

"But if people see you hurting, they might be able to help," he says. "So many thousands and thousands of people suffer Sickle. You don't need to be the one who doesn't show it when many others do."

"I don't want to get attached and get hurt more. I don't want to give anybody something they could use against me," I say, quietly.

"Maybe, but… if you have friends and people who love you, it can be harder to get hurt in the first place. Isolation isn't always the best way," Peeta says. I'm noticing how, even though I've stopped crying, he's not stopped holding me. "There may be only one Victor in the Arena, but… life as a whole, you don't have to always face it alone."

I'm silent for a bit, just thinking it over. It seems foolish, it seems… stupid. I'd only set myself up for hurt if I decided to embrace caring and loving people openly, and I've said I intend to be the last one standing.

I guess I'm a stupid fool then, huh? Somehow… I feel alright with this.

"What did I do to deserve a friend like you?" I ask, hugging Peeta in return. "I've caused you trouble."

"You've helped keep me alive as well," he says. "...And, I've just grown attached."

"...Me too," I say. "...Don't leave me. Not yet. I don't want this, us, to end."

"Neither do I," he replies, and just listening to him I know he means it. "We'll stay alive and take the Games as they come, together."

"I know I'm setting myself up for pain, so... why don't I mind that right now?" I can't help but ask.

"Because you're human, and that means you have emotions and needs. Like a desire in some way for friends," Peeta replies.

The Arena changes people, it's true. Looks like it's changed me more than I ever thought it would, and only now am I realising it. Maybe it's a good thing, maybe it's a bad thing… I'm not sure. I just know that, right now, I am so glad Peeta is alive.

We sit for a while, going over the supplies that Peeta was able to get for us. Mostly it's food – stuff like meal bars, meat, bread and such things – water and some medical supplies which, to my delight, includes burn cream. As I apply it to myself Peeta reveals he also grabbed four knives.

"I think we're getting somewhere with the idea of taking away the main weapons of the Careers," he says. "I think every knife left Clove is carrying already, and I'm not sure how many she could hold at once. Maybe ten? Marvel only has two spears left, and one of them looked a bit flimsy. It won't be long before they run out of weapons they're the best with."

"We can only hope," I reply. "How injured at they?"

"I'd say not critically, but they'll need medical attention soon enough," Peeta tells me. "I made sure to grab as much of their medical supplies as I could. I don't think they have enough of it left to even fully fix-up one of them."

"Excellent. Any injuries they get from now on are going to count more than ever," I say. Maybe they'd get infected and we could just play the waiting game? "Doesn't make up for… well, you know. But, that's good news. Great work Peeta."

"Thanks," he says with a modest smile. "Not just me though. Miller didn't go down without a fight. Like I said, he stabbed Clove in the leg and I think he may have broken one of her fingers."

"On her throwing arm?" I ask hopefully.

"That, I'm not sure of," he says,

We're silent for a while, though before long the Anthem begins to play. I drag myself to the mouth of the cave, Peeta helping me, and we look up at the sky. Even with it being rainy as it is, the Capitol will make sure we can see the faces of the dead in the sky.

The Capitol Seal is displayed, and I am sure nobody misses the hate in my expression as I look up at it. They've not beaten me just yet. Maybe broken me, but definitely not beaten me.

It's just as I had been thinking since the fire. It was Callico who died, as I see his face in the sky, devoid of any of the usual life and energy in his eyes. So much about him unanswered and I suppose I'll never know. What I do know is he was a good person, and didn't deserve to die in such a nasty way. I feel bad for even thinking this, but… his death helps my own odds of survival, grim and selfish a thought as it may be.

When Miller's face appears in the sky, I can't hide the pain in my expression. He died horribly, and for a mission to get supplies for both himself and Peeta… and me. I feel like it's my fault in some ways. I never knew just how valuable of a person he would be to me in the end. He was from home, and as the days go by anything that represents home is precious. Goodbye Miller.

The Anthem ends, and once again all that remains is the dark, rainy night and the distant noises of the forest.

"Seven left," Peeta says. "Wonder how long it's gonna go on for until they have their Victor."

"Hopefully not too long," I say.

Shyly, I let myself lay gently against Peeta.

"...Hopefully not too soon either," I mumble.

Peeta smiles, letting me rest against him. We're silent like this for a while, not doing or saying anything.

"Got any plan in mind for tomorrow?" Peeta asks.

"Not really," I admit. "But, I do know one thing though."

I look directly at a camera built into the top of the cave.

"We'll be staying alive," I say, determined.

* * *

 **END OF DAY 7…**

* * *

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES**

 ** **Marvel (District 1 Male)****

 ** **Clove (District 2 Female**** ** **)****

 ** **Marina (District 4 Female)****

 ** **Tamora (District 6 Female)****

 ** **Sickle (District 9 Female)****

 ** **Sable (District 10 Female)****

 ** **Peeta (District 12 Male)****

* * *

 ** **THE FALLEN****

8th- ****Miller (District 9 Male)-**** Cut apart and sliced with a knife, and finished with a stab to the throat, by Clove

9th- ****Callico (District 8 Male)**** **-** Incinerated in a forest fire.

10th- ****Thresh (District 11 Male)-**** Blown apart by Tracker Detonation.

11th- ****Rammy (District 10 Male)-**** Beaten up by the Career Pack, and stabbed repeatedly in the chest by Clove.

12th- ****Rue (District 11 Female)-**** Stabbed in the back with a knife by Sickle.

13th- **Glimmer (District 1 Female)-** Broke neck after falling off the Cornucopia

14th- **Cinder (District 5 Female)-** Impaled herself on Marvel's spear, and then stabbed in the heart by Clove.

15th- **Urchin (District 4 Male)-** Cleaved with a serrated sword by Marina, and then stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

16th- **Katniss (District 12 Female)** \- Two knives thrown into her back by Clove.

17th- **Weldar (District 3 Male)** \- Strangled and asphyxiated by Tamora.

18th- **Jason (District 6 Male)** \- Stabbed with a Kukri and then stabbed in the gut by a spear, by Marvel.

19th- **Wood (District 7 Male)** \- Throat slashed with a large cleaver by Glimmer.

20th- **Nettle (District 7 Female)** \- Stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

21st- **Gadget (District 3 Female)** \- Struck in the skull with an axe by Marina.

22nd- **Lacey (District 8 Female)** \- Impaled with a spear by Marvel.

23rd- **Sparky (District 5 Male** )- Knife thrown between the eyes by Clove.

24th- **Cato (District 2 Male)** \- Mines detonated by Sickle before the countdown was over.

* * *

 ** **TRIBUTE NOTES****

 ** **Callico:**** He's always been a nameless tribute who stood out to me in the movie. Sure, dying first kind of makes one memorable in a more ironic sense, but I always felt very interested by the fact he's from the place that makes Textiles, he's only 14… and somehow, he has odds tied with Cato who as we know is a 'pure killing machine' with years of training. This always struck me as very odd and how there must be more going on there than meets the eye. And so… it's still a mystery! But, we saw he's got a lot of skills and appears very altruistic. I feel he played a good supporting role to Sickle, but sadly an Arena trap meant for her doomed him. The Gamemakers don't discriminate in who they kill, and who gets in the way of the main target after all.

 ** **Miller:**** After a story where the District partners do not get to interact much (Hot Water) and one where they have a violently negative relationship (Wounded Warsong) I felt it was time for a story where they get along very well, and so we have Miller being an actual friend to Sickle. Initially they agreed to stay out of each other's way due to being willing to do what they must and kill who they are required to in order to be the last one standing, but as time went by them just naturally getting along made it easier for them to work together when it became necessary, such as Sickle needing supplies or wanting to steal things the Careers need, or Miller helping to save Sickle from the fire out of both care and needing her as an ally. In the end though Sickle's actions driving Clove into a more unstable state and despising our lead so much… well, it all got taken out on the 'next best target'. A good supporting role, and now a death that shall certainly haunt Sickle.


	8. 8: The One where Sickle Gets Emotional

**Disclaimer:** I do now own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

 **Note:** Another chapter! Day eight in the Arena, and whatever horrors it may or may not bring. As is always the case, I got the bulk of this one done in just one day once I really got cracking with it and I feel content with how this one turned out, but you guys can be the judges of that. We're approaching the end of the Games now and not only does that mean things getting even worse for the Tributes, but soon it shall be time to start dropping hints for who the 4th lead of The Nameless Chronicles shall be. Hopefully somebody people like, but until then here's the chapter!

* * *

I'm awake, but I don't open my eyes. I don't want to get up and face another day of the Arena just yet. I'm not sure how it happened, but somehow I just had the best night's sleep I've ever had in my life. I feel so cosy, and content right now. Just… warm. I can hear the rain still falling outside the cave, heavy once again, but it's not taking away from how good I'm feeling currently. Actually, it sounds rather relaxing. I always did like the rain.

Eventually though, I can't lay still anymore. I need to see what's making me feel so relaxed. After all, isn't it supposed to be impossible to relax when you're in the Arena? So, yawning, I open my eyes and sit myself up a bit. Or, try to anyway as I can't really move properly.

Not that I mind or anything. On the contrary, I don't mind at all. Heheheh!

I'm currently snuggled up against Peeta, who still lays sleeping, my head having been against his chest and my arms sort of around his shoulders. It seems in his slumber, his arms ended up around my waist. I can't help but wonder, how long have we been laying together like this for all of Panem to see? More importantly, do I care? ...Not even slightly.

"I'm such a teenage girl," I can't help but say to myself as I settle back down.

It took a lot of convincing and me crying like a baby – I still feel really awkward about all the crying I did even if it was probably healthier to let it all out – but I'm starting to allow myself to feel care and affection for others now. Let them care about me too. It's nice, but… I think after so long of holding it all back, it's coming out too much at once. I can't really look at, or think about, Peeta without my cheeks feelings like they're going as red as my hair.

It was bad enough having most of my left foot chewed up by the Cato-mutt, but now I'm getting my first real crush too? Why not just kill me now, Seneca, and save me from dying a worse death from embarrassment.

"It'll only end in tragedy," I say to myself. "...But, somehow I don't care about that right now."

Peeta yawns, stirring. He opens his eyes, looking around the cave quickly as soon as he does so. Seeing no danger, he relaxes and then his gave rests upon me. Seeing the position we're in he looks very awkward, and for that matter so do I.

"...Good morning?" I say eventually, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous we must look.

"Good morning," he replies, looking just as flustered as I do.

And yet, neither of us make any move to let each other go. Not yet. It could be our only chance to do… well, whatever it is we're doing. I'm not sure how close we are, really, and what we exactly are to each other. Whatever the answer to that is though, I don't want us to be forever apart too soon. I can't get enough of being held like this. Mmmm, it's nice.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Peeta eventually asks.

"I'd say we're doing it already," I say, chuckling. "Cosy, ain't it?"

"I guess it is," he agrees.

"You guess?" I huff, acting offended. "What, am I not snuggly enough? Not pretty enough? Not all of the above? Cheek!"

To this, Peeta begins to laugh. I can't help but smile and laugh as well. For just a few minutes, it's as though all is not wrong in the world.

"So, nice as it is just… doing this, what should we do?" Peeta asks moving to sit up and thus making me get off him. "There are five others out there."

"The Careers need to lose somebody soon," I mutter. "Three of the field are in their Pack, and the ones who are not them or us are Sable, a pacifist, and Marina who has kind of lost it."

"Yeah... she has. But you still managed to drive her off, without killing her," Peeta notes. "Impressive."

"Heh, thanks. She stepped on the punji stick trap I made and then when she scramble away I threw a rock at her. She fell into the river and was carried away by the current, though she must have gotten out somewhere further down as there wasn't a cannon for her," I reply. Surviving something like that, makes me wish I had any idea how to swim. "She'll attack us on sight."

"Guess you're all I've got," he says.

"And you're all I've got," I reply. "Well, Sable would help us but she refuses to fight, so..."

I don't finish the sentence. No reason to really as we both know a pacifist can't take down a Career, let alone two of them and a girl they've allowed to join them.

"Clove's losing it. If we can stay away from the pack for a while, Clove might just snap and kill Marvel and Tamora," Peeta says, thoughtful. "That might work, actually. Just stay out of their way and let Clove do the hard work for us."

"It's worked for past Victors," I say, nodding my head in agreement. "Bet you anything though that the Gamemakers would try to drive us over to them, or them towards _us_ , before that happened. Well… why not, right? We have enough supplies for today. We'll be fine if we stay where we are."

"After all the fighting and running, a day of just being in a cave and listening to the rain sounds nice," Peeta says with a smile as he takes a pack of fruit out of one of the bags of supplies he looted. "Hungry?"

"Every day of my life," I say, my stomach growling like a mutt as I speak. "Got anything besides dried fruit and meat?"

"Meal bars?" Peeta says, holding one out for me.

"It'll have to do," I decide, taking it. I frown as I chew it slowly. "Tastes kinda like cardboard."

"Cardboard, the final flavour tasted by the dying," he jokes.

"Then why am I the one tasting it? I'm not dying," I reply, clenching my fist. "Not yet."

"Well, I'd say to say I'm not either," Peeta says with a smirk of his own. "But, we'll settle that when the time comes. Ideally, we won't have to. Sickle… I don't think I have it in me to kill you, if it were just us at the end."

Normally I'd just nod and not say much, only that 'he has my respect, but I will do whatever I must'. Anybody else, I'd still tell them that. But, Peeta isn't anybody else, is he? No, he's become my closest friend in this deadly forest. So, strange as it still it to me, I have a different answer for him.

"...I don't have it in me to kill you either," I admit, looking out at the rain. "I'm attached. I love your company and really… well, um, I don't want to be without you."

I can't look at Peeta just now. I feel so awkward.

"I know what you mean," he says. "Coming here, I didn't really think I'd make any friends. Just enemies, and maybe kills. That'll teach me for assuming, huh?"

"I taught somebody something? Ha, that'll be the day," I say with a wistful chuckle.

Friend. I don't know why, but part of me feel unhappy to hear that. Stupid of me really, as even having a friend in the Hunger Games is pretty much unheard of. Especially from a separate District. Most Tributes who become close have one or both die early, and those that go far inevitably start to fight. The only ones who tend to always have each other's backs are the Careers, and even if they are comrades to the end they shed no tears over having to murder each other, they just go ahead and do it.

Being seen as a friend is a true gift here, more than any Sponsor. So, why do I just find myself wanting more? What, was I wanting Peeta as a boyfriend? ...I can't deny the idea certainly has an appeal to me, but that'd never happen with the fine print of there being only one Victor. That and, well, he loved Katniss who has only been dead for a week or so. This is not the time to make serious showings of affection. Not like I snuggled him on purpose, after all.

"So, we've not got much to do," I say after a while. "Kinda just gonna be a slow day sitting here and watching the rain fall, right?"

"Yeah, but better a slow day than a bloodbath," Peeta replies, looking out at the rain just like I am. "The rain will probably stop anybody from coming this way. Hard to hunt in this downpour, and the river and terrain leading up to the cave are only gonna be more dangerous to get by."

"You're right," I say, as truthfully he is. "...But, Marina still made it here."

"Then it's a good thing we have weapons, and that hidden trap just there," he says. He's right… without that trap, I'd be a corpse in a hovercraft right now. "…I know we don't want to die, but sometimes it feels harder being the ones still alive. Is that strange to you, me saying that?"

"Honestly, not really. We may be alive, but it's never going to be the same is it? Even if we're not exactly being turned into monsters by the Arena, one of us will be leaving this place a changed person," I say, sighing as I stare out at the falling rain. The clouds sure are grey. "Sure, we win. We get money and a crown, not that it makes up for the shit we're being put through in any way… but we also have to live with the pain and trauma of being the sole survivor of what we have seen in the Arena. Not easy to live with."

"It's not. But, one of us could live and for that to happen the rest must die… we'd owe it to the dead to keep on going as best as we can," Peeta says. I can see the pain in his eyes. "If I get out of this place, I'll never forget Katniss. I'll make sure she's never forgotten, not just by District Twelve but by the Capitol too. They may not remember 'Bloodbath fodder', but I'll make sure Katniss will be remembered."

"I never knew much of anything about her, yet it feels as though I've known her closely for a long time," I say. "I wonder how many Victors feel that way about the Fallen of their own Games. It must be hard to forget who you were in the Arena with, and maybe disrespectful to them as well."

I pause, the rain getting heavier as it falls from above.

"I'll make sure Miller is never forgotten either," I vow.

"You'd give them no choice but to listen to you," Peeta says, managing to lightly smile.

"Been the plan since day one, and all it's cost me is my left foot and any possible chance of the Gamemakers going easy on me," I reply, giggling. "I feel like I'm living on out of spite. Makes me wonder what Snow's face must look like right now."

"...Like a snake?" Peeta guesses quietly.

"You know… that makes perfect sense to me," I agree after a moment of thought.

And so, we're again sitting silently as we watch the rain fall. Not interesting, not really helping our situation at all, and yet… I appreciate the peace. It's a nice, peaceful silence. I guess sort of like death, but without the sense of finality to it.

"Think there might be a rainbow?" I ask.

"Usually is one after a rainstorm," Peeta replies.

"Yeah, but this is the Arena," I say. "Things are different in there… time, nature, everything, it's all different. Just wondering if it means rainbows won't happen either."

"Guess we better stay alive and find out," he says, sitting up straighter. "You know, talking of the dead and how we can't let them be forgotten… did I ever tell you about when I first started to love Katniss?"

"Nope, you didn't," I say, turning to look at Peeta. I wonder… did he tell anybody else about his affection for his District Partner, outside what he revealed to Caesar? Certainly not Katniss if her shock at the interviews was any clue. Am I the first to be directly told such details as what he's about to say? "When did it start? Uh… a chance meeting under an apple tree? I don't know, I'm not good at this stuff."

"Nah, nothing that cliché," Peeta chuckles. "No, it was when we were five and she had her hair in two braids instead of one. My father, he pointed her out while we were waiting to line up-."

And so he tells me the story, and I find that I cannot help but listen to it. Not just that, but I listen with full attention. To how his father had once loved Katniss' mother, to how Katniss sang something called 'The Valley Song', to how Peeta calls himself a goner from that moment and how he'd loved her up to when she died… and even past her death. The worst part of it though? Katniss never knew how he truly felt… chances are, she probably assumed it was an act for sponsors. Can't say I blame her considering it's the Hunger Games after all. I can't help but feel a little sad hearing about all of this. Peeta though, he keeps his expression neutral and doesn't shed tears. A strong boy, this one.

"...You were right, it wasn't cliché," I say, managing to smile. "That was lovely. And yes, you alone have gotten me to admit to that."

"Why, not a fan of romance?" he asks.

"Oh, um… well, uh… it's not all bad," I say, trying to look away from him as I say so. Hopefully I wasn't obvious with how I quickly turned away from it right then. "...Why do so many stories of love end in tragedy? It's not fair."

"I guess that's life. It's not a fairy tale," he says, sounding almost casual. I pat him on the shoulder.

"I think if she'd lived longer, Katniss would've returned your affection. She'd have been lucky," I say, managing a tired chuckle. " _Really_ lucky."

"You really think so?" Peeta asks, managing to smile. "Really?"

"I mean, not hard to come to that conclusion, right?" I reply. "I mean, you're sweet. Really sweet. Not to mention you're not bad looking. A real _hunk_..."

...Crap! Did I really just say that out loud?! Peeta's expression and his growing smirk shows that I did.

"Bread! Hunk of _bread_!" I hiss, my words coming out as more of a squeak than a hiss. Bugger!

"I'm sure that's what you meant all along," he assures me, but that tone of his is anything but sincere.

I just groan, throwing up my tired arms.

"You wanted me to let people in, and show care in return. You better be ready to take all the awkwardness you've gotten me to unleash upon Panem," I say, pouting. "Hunk of bread, the hell even was that?"

Peeta looks at me, smiling.

"Endearing," he says, patting my on the shoulder. Oh boy, there's the nice warm feelings once again.

This is getting weird.

"Um, so… rain's not gonna stop anytime soon," I quickly say. "Any other stories to tell?"

"Well, I told you one. How about you tell me one?" he asks, looking interested.

"I don't have much to say," I admit. "I never let myself get really attached to anybody, and I didn't know that many people… I don't really have that many things to really say. Gee, that sure is depressing isn't it."

"Sickle, I have to ask… why did you prevent anybody getting close to you? I mean, I know you told me some stuff, but... I can't help but feel there is more to it than that," Peeta says carefully. "What's the real reason you never let people in? Or, the full reason?"

"...The walls have many ears," I mutter. "I just… I just feel some things in life are too important to, well, not do them. If I could I would, but we all have our own little secrets."

Peeta nods, accepting this reasoning. But now the silence has returned and with it the lack of much of anything. Hmmm… what to do, what to do.

Well, there is _that_. I don't know the Valley Song but I do know the Grain Melody… yeah, why not?

"...Want me to sing?" I offer. "I know a song. It's, uh… about grain and bread. Something you might, um, like."

"Sure, I'd love that," he replies, quickly turning his attention from the rain and towards me. "Any time you're ready. Need me to tap a beat or something?"

"Nah, I don't really need one fort his," I say, clearing my throat a little. "Just try not to laugh. I'm not much of a singer. I sing as well as I stop my left foot being mangled… not very well. Ok, here goes."

I pause for a few moments, letting the memories of workers in the fields singing the lyrics full my mind. I soon find it all coming back to me, and my voice passes my lips.

 _In the sunshine and the rain_

 _In the winter and the frosty pain_

 _In the fields, we gather the grain_

 _Under the storm, as the moon wanes_

 _Stack it up, grab our prize_

 _Gather it all, let our bread rise_

 _In the fields of District Nine we harvest the grain forever_

 _We will never stop, not now, not ever_

 _Under the sun, beneath the blaze_

 _In the fields, within the haze_

 _We harvest the grain no matter the pain_

 _We'll gather it all, but not for the Capitol's gain_

 _Remember the worker who gathers the grain and the wheat_

 _Don't forget them and their life if they fall from the heat_

 _No matter the issues or the resulting malady_

 _We'll harvest the wheat and make bread for our family_

 _In the great grain meadow_

 _With an echo of sorrow_

 _The grain is here, the bread can raise_

 _The worker will fall, never given any praise_

 _They are the moon and we're their stars_

 _Here for them as they fade into the dark_

 _I sing this song proud as a family member of Nine_

 _We gather grain for the bread, so that we may dine_

 _We gather grain for bread and for wine_

 _So that we may live fiiiiiiine~_

I finish my song, and things are quiet once more. Quiet besides the rain anyway. The song skirts the fine line between acceptable, and blatant treason. Not that I care, of course. I'm more interested in what Peeta thinks. Suddenly, I feel much more shy. I never was that great at singing, at least in my own opinion. I bet I sounded like nails on a crappy school chalkboard.

"So, um, how was that?" I ask, shy. Did I really just sing? It's a fight to the death in the Arena, and I just sang a song. I really must be losing it by now. "I know, I'm not much of a singer."

"I thought it was really good," Peeta says, lightly applauding. "You have a nice, light kind of singing voice. Soft and kind of uncertain, but really nice. Second best signing voice I've heard."

I accept the compliment with a small nod and even smaller smile. It's no guessing game who was the owner of the best singing voice, really. Katniss, dead but truly not forgotten. It's a mercy really that Clove didn't think she gather the heads of the Tributes who died in the Bloodbath… the thought of Peeta's expression after seeing Katniss's severed head on Clove's belt? It's not a thought I wish to dwell on. Euurgghhh…

"Know any other songs?" Peeta asks a few minutes later.

"Well, there is this one about-," I say, before I stop. I hear something coming closer to us.

A sound I was not expecting to hear within the Arena again. A sponsor parachute!

"Looks like my singing must have gotten us something good," I say as I try to stand up. "That or they just like us talking in a cave."

I'm on my feet but soon stumbling over. It's hard to walk with my food as it is… I really ought to start trying to practise walking like this. Might save my life if I can walk properly and not keep falling over without a branch to use as a walking stick.

"I'll get it," Peeta says as he heads out into the rain.

A few seconds later he's back, holding the sponsor parachute. It's marked with a 12, so clearly not mine. When Peeta opens the basket I almost cry at what I am seeing. Food! _Good_ food! Not the basic and dry ration stuff you'd get from the Cornucopia, or the roots and other really dreary stuff you'd forage for if you couldn't get anything from the silver horn… no, this is actual food! The smell of it makes my mouth water just like my eyes are.

I can't help but stare at what is in the basket- fine meats in gravy and a fancy sauce, a platter of numerous vegetables all cooked richly, buttered mash potatoes and- OH MY GOD it looks so good! I bet I look like some kind of a kicked puppy, looking at the food in wonder when it's not my own Sponsor gift. I guess that's the price for being openly rebellious and insulting the Capitol both high-ups and citizens.

Peeta just looks pleased at the gift he has gotten, and then looks at me. The nerve of this boy, smirking at me! Humph!

"Well, aren't you going to have some?" he says, smiling fondly. "Plenty of food for both of us, and we'll need to get our strength back up for the next few days."

The generosity of this boy, sharing with me! I just mumble a thank you, laughing in sheer mad glee as I pile food onto one of the two plates that came with the parachute. Moments later I'm eating it all like a starving animal, trying not to make myself sick from flavour overload. It's hard though, as it's all _**so good…**_

I'm not alone on this though. Even Peeta has forgone manners – though not as much as I have – and is quickly eating as much of the amazing food as he can in as short a time as he can manage. It's like culinary carnage and so, so good. I'd forgotten what food from the outside tasted like. The Capitol may be wretched and I may long for the looming day where they burn… but damn, they sure can cook. It's amazing, really.

Eventually I have to slow my pace as I almost throw up from the speed I'm eating at. Nutritional overload, as I thought, but still I keep eating, just at a slower pace. Peeta does too, and all too soon the sponsor gift has been eaten. I guess the only way I'll be tasting food like this again if if everybody but me is dead and I win. Well, that was always the plan…

"That was great," Peeta says. "Amazing. I feel alive again."

"You mean you weren't alive? I didn't hear a cannon," I say, teasing him. "Imagine though, what would they do if a cannon fired too early? Imagine if they crowned a Victor and then somebody they thought was dead turned out still be alive. Imagine the mess that would cause for them."

"Sounds so unlikely though," he replies. "Interesting question though."

I nod, and again we're silent. I can't help but wonder if such a mistake would allow us both to live… but, no. Seneca may be a cruel man, I'm sure, and my unseen foe in this Arena, but I doubt he or the other Gamemakers would be so _stupid_ as it let it happen. Outside this Arena, I'll be on my own.

As I sit watching the rain again, I see Peeta has taken a small piece of paper from the parachute.

"A note?" I ask.

"Yeah, from Haymitch," he replies. "Says I'm doing well, but that I may not want to sit too close to you. It may be hazardous. That, and he'll buy me a drink once I'm out of here."

"Try some of the beer from Nine, I hear it's good," I say. Not that I know for sure, as I'm underage and poor. "But really, I'm hazardous to be near?"

"Well, you are marked as the Gamemakers biggest target. Mocking them at every turn won't make them endeared to you," he explains, looking amused. "It makes sense people may be cautious to be too near you."

"You don't seem to mind though," I say. "Though… yeah… Callico and Miller..."

I trail off, looking uncertain.

"They deserved better," Peeta says.

"Yeah, they did," I agree. "After I'm done here, done with whoever I have to face-off against in the end on the last day… _they_ , the Capitol, are next. I swear it."

"Tall words," Peeta says, looking uncertain. He glances out of the cave for a moment, perhaps to check a Mutt hasn't been sent after us. "What can a girl of fourteen years old do to the Capitol. They're, uh… incredibly powerful."

"If it can be built up, it can be burnt to the ground," I say, chuckling. "I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."

A hear a groaning, though not one of any human or beast. It sounds more like the groaning of moving rocks, but where's it coming from? Peeta hears it too and as I looked around for the source of it one thought immediately comes to mind.

Shit!

The cave walls are closing it!

"We gotta move!" I yell, scrambling forwards, almost falling into my own trap.

Peeta grabs a bad of supplies and follows me. We're out of the cave with just two seconds to spare, and then we're just shivering and panting in the rain. Looking back, the cave has sealed up. No way to get inside at all. Where the entrance was, a thick layering of rock is in place with some moss already forming on it. Any supplies left inside have no doubt been crushed almost to dust. If not dust, then still unusable either way.

"Well, what do we do now?" I ask Peeta.

"We find another cave, or any kind of shelter," he says. "Might be hard with all this rain, and how one of the two bags of supplies just got crushed."

"Bugger!" I yell, punching the ground. "Bugger it!"

But soon, I cease my tantrum. Sitting here and sulking won't keep us alive. No, we'll just have to keep going on our way and find somewhere else to stake out. Unlike me, Peeta seems able to keep calm even when he is upset. I guess I always was a rather sulky girl. At least we're not hungry, right?

"So, upriver or down?" I ask, looking at the fast flow of the water. "So long as we're _not_ in the river, I don't really mind."

"Well, downriver leads to the Cornucopia and that's where the Careers are," Peeta says. "Marina could be with them as she got carried down the river. We'd do better if we avoided them a while longer."

"Works for me," I say. And so, we begin to walk upriver and towards… whatever the hell awaits us, I guess. "What supplies do we have left?"

"Mainly just food," Peeta says. "The medical gear was mostly in the other bag. The only medical stuff we have here are two small bottles of painkillers."

"Bugger. Well, it'll have to do," I say, pouting. "At least the others won't be able to get the supplies in the cave, and even if they did the gear would be useless now anyway."

"Pretty much," Peeta says. "We'll all suffer as one. So, we have some food and water but it'll run out soon. We have painkillers but nothing else to help patch us up. And I have a knife and a spear, and you've got a knife and a that bladed whip?"

"Yep, that sounds about right," I say, nodding. "What about your blow-gun?"

"Lost it when I ran from the fog," he says. "I went back, but it was gone. Either somebody took it or the fog destroyed it somehow."

"Nuts. That could've helped. Always good to hit them from a safe distance… Tamora sure knows that," I say, thinking of the Girl from Six. She's not done very much in this Arena and yet she's in the top seven… I wonder when she'll truly breakout. Or is she letting Marvel and Clove do the hard work and get themselves too beaten about to fight back when she splits?

That must be it.

Clever girl. With almost no more medical supplies, says Peeta, any injury the Careers take is going to be even more impactful than usual. Makes me wonder what state they are in now, actually. Did anything happen since Clove killed Miller? ...Personally, I sure hope so.

"You got any other weapons?" Peeta asks, looking hopeful.

"Um… I'll check," I say. It only now occurs to me that I've not even checked what is in my pockets since I woke up after Peeta saved me from the fire. "Ok… empty, empty, small piece of fruit, empty… oh hey, look at this."

I hold out the taser. I forgot I even had this. I never used it too much, so the battery should have charge left in it. But, will it work with how wet it is? Then again, it never came out in the rain. Though my clothes are getting damp.

"Don't use it right now," Peeta warns. "The part that shocks people could get wet and make it backfire, I think? Keep it dry."

"Got anything I could wrap it in?" I ask.

"Uh, I'll check," Peeta says, quickly looking through the bag. A moment later he takes out a small plastic bag. "This enough?"

"It'll do," I say as I put the taser inside, tying the knot on the bag to keep the taser out of the rain. "Why did the Gamemakers give us a plastic bag? So somebody could be suffocated? ...Oh yeah, that was probably it, actually."

"Nasty, but there are worse ways to die," he says lowly.

"...Yeah," I mumble, thinking of what Miller's horrific death must have been like. I don't want to think about it, but if I win these Games I'm sure to see the whole messed up thing in the recap at the Victor's Interview with Caesar. Just a way to twist the knife… no pun intended.

We're like this for a while, silently walking through the rain along the bank of the river, me holding the bag of supplies. No fish Mutts are attacking – is something worse on the way? I bet there is. - so I can get a good look at the water. Really fast flowing, and probably dangerous. I'm not sure how deep it is but probably enough to submerge me fully. Maybe Marvel could stand in it and have at least his nose about the water, but at 5'1 I'd probably be submerged without even being at the deepest point.

"Can you swim?" I ask Peeta. "I can't."

"Not really," he says. "Not anywhere to practise in Twelve. I'd like to think I could stay afloat for a while once adrenaline sets in, but I'm nothing like Marina probably is."

"Four has the advantage where there is water," I agree. If there's one way Marina will not die, it's drowning. "I'd hope I could stay afloat too, if such a thing happened. I think if you keep air inside you then you float easier? Apparently it's better to be calm with your movement and to not panic and thrash around."

"I heard that too," Peeta agrees. "Better yet, let's not fall in the river."

"I agree," I say with a giggle. "Hmm, looks like the sun is getting lower in the sky. They must be speeding up nightfall."

"Think it means trouble?" Peeta asks.

"It's the Arena, when is it not trouble?" I reply. I can't keep my tone stable though. "Peeta, um..."

"Yes?" he says, patiently awaiting my words.

"...Like I said in days gone by, I'm not afraid to die. Just afraid to die too soon. But, I think I have realised something… I'm afraid of you dying," I say quietly. "I know, I know. It'd have to happen if I'm gonna get out of here, and I accept that. But… I'm just scared of you dying, and me being unable to do a thing about it, or worse being the cause. I… like you, and would hope I'd be able to say goodbye, you know…?"

Peeta looks like he does know. He stands before me, and looks into my eyes. I can't help but look back at him in return. Why must my face feel as red as my hair? I don't like it… but, I sorta do as well? Oh Peeta, only you…

"I feel the same," he says gently. "You're my friend, and I'd be hurt if anything happened to you. It'd be worse if I had to do it… I know, we said we don't have it in us to kill each other, but if we were the last two… well, anyway, I just wanted to be sure you knew I care about you Sickle, and...I'm glad that you've let yourself care about me too."

"You broke through my _many_ emotional defences," I cannot help but snark. "Oh boy, us here in the rain, talking about our, ick, _feelings_. It's almost cliché… but, you know what'd make it even more of a cliché for those who watch us as we try to survive?"

"What's that?" Peeta asks.

I don't know why the hell I do it – I must have lost my mind, right? - but I kiss him. Only for a moment, but it's quite clear to all of Panem that I, the Lone Wolf from District Nine, just kissed the Baker's Son from District Twelve. I feel really embarrassed, Peeta looks stunned and I'm sure the Capitol Citizens are squealing like pigs at this development. But to hell with them, I just brace for Peeta's reaction.

"...Not getting attached, are you?" he says, looking a little red in the face.

"Well, you made it _hard_ to not get attached," I huff, crossing my arms

And then, we're both laughing. I cannot help but give him a hug as a laugh, and a moment later he gives me a hug as well. This… this is _nice_.

I hear a splat sound.

Before I can ask what it was, Peeta looks very distant. A moment later he coughs, then he coughs again. Specks of blood scatter onto my face.

"Yeah, got him!" a voice cheers in glee.

"Look, there she is!" another voice yells. "Bitch gonna get cut up now!"

In a half-second, everything becomes clear. The Careers, and Tamora behind them, are here and running towards us from further upriver. Tamora doesn't fire a dart, and lets the beaten looking Careers advance on us. Peeta has a spear in him, that almost came right through him to hit me as well.

Peeta gasps out something I cannot make out as one of Clove's knives hits him in the back of his leg. And then, he falls down.

"PEETA!" I scream, my voice a shrill wail. "PEETA, NO!"

"Alright! Another to my score!" I hear Marvel yell.

Marvel did this.

Marvel threw the spear.

Marvel killed Peeta.

 _ **I'LL KILL HIM!**_

I have my weapons in hand in an instant, but now that Peeta isn't helping me stand, I can't balance properly. I see Clove ready to throw another knife – I see Miller's cut head is also hanging off of her belt – and I realise how I'm so out numbered. But how? How did they find us?!

I scream, holding the bag of supplies in front of me as a shield. The knife is blocked by it, but now they are close and Peeta is dying fast. How can I kill all three of these kids, and be able to say… goodbye? To try and give Peeta as nice as a passing as I can?

...I can't.

If I'm going down, I'll drag one of them with me!

"Looks like Marina was right," Marvel notes as he looms near, his final spear in hand. "Nice idea of hers, cutting these two off from upriver."

"We'll reward her. Kill her after we kill the Ten girl," Clove adds. "Before that, my belt is due two new trophies."

"You guys are sick," I hear Tamora say. Not that I care, I'm bracing myself to block a second knife."

"Shut the fuck up Six or you're next!" Clove snarls. "This kill is in Cato's name!"

"You're nuts," I hear Tamora say as she takes a few steps back.

And so, here I am, the rain falling and the Careers closing in on me. What escape is there? I can't run, and even if I threw my knife I'm left open for either a knife in return, or a spear.

"I'll cut her tongue out first," Clove says. "Then her eyes, then her fingers, then her ovaries and… I'm sure I'll figure out what's next by then."

"Sounds good," Marvel agrees, leering at me. "Just let me finish off Twelve and you can do whatever."

Peeta is in agony, clearly at Death's door by now. He looks up at me, for what I know is the last time. He mouths one word to me.

'Swim'.

The water is rushing fast, and I'm not sure how well I'd be able to stay afloat. But, I'd have a tiny chance to live. I'm slaughtered if I stay here a few seconds longer.

"I love you Peeta!" I yell, jumping into the river.

I'm instantly freezing and practically soaked to the bone. Faster than any running speed I'm being washed down the river. A knife is thrown near me, and then another. I hear Clove screaming in anger that I've escaped, at least for now. Or, does she assume I'm dead in this river and she's just pissed off she cannot kill me herself.

In the brief moment that I'm being roughly washed away backwards I see Marvel about to land the killing blow on Peeta. I can barely start to cry out to him when Tamora suddenly runs forwards, giving a hard roundhouse kick to Clove's back. The girl from Six may have used her injured foot but it makes no difference, Clove was just bashed into the water, and now she is screaming as well.

"Alliance over, sick bitch!" I hear Tamora yell as she sprints off as quickly as she can into the soaked forest.

I'm screaming and crying, unable to fight the current as I'm sent along and choking on the water painfully. Clove is screaming and snarling, trying to fight to get herself out of the river. She sounds worried about losing her 'trophies'. I'd be scared for my life, and I am, but I'm funny like that. Marvel makes no move to help her, no doubt seeing this to be to his advantage. He shrugs, and with a triumphant yell brings his spear down upon Peeta.

When I hear the cannon, I feel my heart breaking as the person I risked let myself care about, and whom I grew to like so much… is gone forever. But I can't cry or scream. Not when I'm gasping for air, and any kind of wailing would certainly make me drown.

I hear Clove yelling for Marvel to help her. No doubt she's managed to grab onto something by the river bank. Of course, that's fine by me as it means I'll be far away from her if I can stop myself drowning. The lake must be a few miles away. If I can hold onto life until then, I might be able to live another day.

My nose full of water and my lungs burning, I gargle out a yell as the stormy water hurtles me along, almost hitting into a rock. Fish Mutts or not, this is immensely dangerous. But, I've survived worse.

...Or, have I? A broken heart can be deadly.

"Help!" I can't help but yell as the sky finally goes dark and the rain gets heavier. "Help!"

But with Peeta dead, no help is coming anymore. I'm on my own.

Truly, I'm ending these Games the way I started them. All by myself.

I can't think now, I have to focus on staying afloat. I'm gasping for air, and everything is feeling very distant.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

It's dark, and I'm so very cold. I'm shaking and so tired as I somehow manage to drag myself out of the lake, hauling my weak body onto the bank. I collapse, moaning. I don't think I've ever known pain quite like this, even when the Cato Mutt mangled my left foot.

I try to say something, anything really, and all I can do is cough out water I was choking on. I'm like this for maybe ten minutes – maybe even twenty? - just coughing out water, gasping for air and occasionally vomiting. There's no pain like it. Then again, the fact I'm soaked, shivering and nearly drowned isn't what hurts most. After all, I survived that and I will at least be able to dry off and maybe clear out my sore lungs.

But nothing will change the fact Peeta is dead. Nothing can bring him back… could fancy Capitol tech do that? No, no, he'd only be a Mutt. Nobody deserves that kind of a fate. But, he's gone. Speared, and his head probably to be put onto Clove's belt. _Marvel did this_.

I know it was inevitable. There was no getting around the fact he was as doomed as the rest of them - if I want to get out of here alive at least – but he saved me. He treated me so well. He even got me to open up and let him care about me, and I cared for him in return. Maybe in a world without the Hunger Games or the Capitol we could've been-

I slap myself. I can't dwell on alternate realities that do not exist.

But yet… why is it so tempting to think of it? I don't know. I just gasp for air a bi more, and soon sit with my knees drawn up. The moon is big and full above the lake, casting a glow to the water. It feels strange, sitting here and watching it – and the rain – alone.

In moments I'm crying my eyes out once again. His hugs, his kindness, that kiss… I opened myself up to all these admittedly beautiful feelings and its led me to this. Being a broken wreck, sobbing over the death of my friend. Of course, part of me thought he was more than a friend.

I'm all alone right now, so I'll cry and wail and scream now. Get it all out so that by the time I'm found once again I'll be in a firm state of mind to get back into the battle. I have to win. I _cannot_ die yet! For District Nine. For Panem. For Peeta…

Until then, I'll let myself bawl.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

I'm not sure how long I was crying and grieving, and I don't care how long it took me. Right now, though I'm hurting, I'm no longer crying.

I'm _**seething**_!

The bag of supplies washed up with me. A stroke of luck. Not much in it though. Some wet food and a bottle of water, but it'll do. One of the bottles of painkillers is gone, but one bottle is better than none, right? I've also still got my taser. The knife and bladed whip are gone.

"Better move," I mutter to myself. "The Careers might be getting near."

But you know what? Let them be near! If I see Marvel, I'm gonna murder him! I won't back down from that, not when he's the one who killed Peeta. Plus, is the pack as big of a danger now? Tamora is gonna be killed by Clove if that crazy girl sees her again, and Marvel not helping Clove may have fractured the pack further. If the three of them are no longer working together… it makes things better for me. With six left though, it's gonna be highly dangerous all the same.

"I wonder if this pain in me, this horrible feeling in my soul, is how Clove felt when I blew Cato up," I ponder as I try to stumble and stagger up the bank. "Maybe I understand that girl better than I think I do?"

Understanding her or not though, she's a serious danger to me. I think she's killed the most people thus far, and I bet she'll kill someone else soon enough. I'm her main target. Actually, wait a second…

I'm everybody's target.

Well, not Sable's as she refuses to hurt anybody. Wherever she is, hopefully she's not suffering too much… yeah, no, it's the Arena, she will be. But the other four… Marvel would love to kill me as he did to Peeta, no question. Clove would kill me, but probably torture me for an hour at least before she'd finish me off. Tamora would kill me, and might just see me as another person on the list to kill. I never did anything that bad to her, I think, but she owes me nothing. And then there's Marina, who fell into my trap. She told the Careers where to find me and Peeta, and how to cut us off. Though, how did she tell them _and_ not get killed right after? Guess I'll learn that on the recap if I get out of here.

What a bitch I must sound like, seeing everybody as an enemy to overcome. But right now, we're all enemies to each other, aren't we? When Peeta died, all bets were off and now it's gonna be a Bloodbath next time a fight happens. Well, except with Sable. I can't help but feel impressed she's lasting this long and not killed a single person, and the one time she hurt somebody she didn't truly mean it to happen. She's the only person left who won't kill me on sight… could I kill her?

...Yeah, if I had to.

"Why do I think so much to myself?" I ask out loud. "I don't say _that_ much with my voice, but I think so many long winded thoughts. It's odd."

I shake my head. Aahhhh! Better not do that again, that really made a headache just flare up in my. OW! Shaking as I stumble along, I down a few painkillers. Not that I expect much relief from them, but at this point of the Hunger Games any tiny bit of comfort could save your life.

"And speaking of comfort..." I say, a wave of relief washing over me. "Yes, yes! Oh, thank Mizar..."

Jumping into the river and being washed away by the fast current had two logical outcomes. First, immense pain for me and much bruising. Second, it dumped me off at the lake which, thankfully, I was able to get out of before I drowned, or had a Mutt set upon me. And what, may I remind you, is next to the lake?

The Cornucopia! And the best part? Nobody else is here, so I have free reign of the place, for now. It's slow work, stumbling my way across the field to where the Cornucopia is located, light glowing off of it to make its presence known. I eventually just resign myself to crawling along as best as I can. Faster this way anyway.

"Ok, what's left for me to grab," I ponder as I reach the silver horn.

The remaining supplies have been moved inside the Cornucopia, which makes sense really with how much it has been raining. Will this downpour ever stop? Anyway, looking at what is here there's clearly only a fraction of the bounty that was here at the start of the Games. Feels like it was years ago I blew up Cato and made my charge to this horn. There used to be so many things to make use of- weapons, stacks of food, blankets, armour, lots of water, camping gear and much more – but now a lot has either been used up, stolen, possibly destroyed or just otherwise taken away.

"Ok, gonna have this," I say as I grab a small backpack. "And a bunch of all this stuff as well."

And so, I grab what little stuff there is for me to use – food, water, a blanket, a single roll of bandages- and pack it all into the backpack. Not much space, but it'll have to do. And even the stuff I don't need, like the pad of paper, I might as well take anyway. At least then the Careers cannot use it either.

"Hmmm. If I could just walk properly I could throw all of their gear into the lake," I say, a finger to my chin. I can't help but giggle mischievously at the thought. "...Wonder if there's a good branch around here, or a prosthetic foot I could grab in here?"

My giggling is humourless though. I'm in fight or die mode, knowing that the odds are not in my favour at all. I'm in pain, even with grabbing this stuff I'm low on gear and Peeta's death… it's making it hard to think and even breath. I kissed him, I hugged him.. then he died. Was it really just a few hours ago I kissed him? Was it truly just earlier today we shared that fine Sponsor feast? It just feels like a dream, a wonderful dream before I awoke in cruel reality once more.

I guess this means I won't me distracted in the final days, but oh Mizar, it _**hurts**_ so much inside. I sniffle, wiping away a tear.

"I won't let you die in vain Peeta," I mutter, shaking. "If you'd not told me to swim I'd be dead too. I'd be burned to a crisp with you. I _will_ win it for you."

I take a few shaky breathes to try and calm myself. It somewhat works. It's so cold. I can't sleep here, not when the Careers may come back at any time… but perhaps a minute or two is safe? I lay back against the side of the inner wall of the Cornucopia, looking up at the moon. Probably gonna be time for the Anthem pretty soon. I'll watch it. It'd be respectful.

I don't know why, but as I sit here silently – the only noise being the now lightly falling rain and the chirping of distant crickets – I began to lightly sing. Another song from District Nine, or at least part of it anyway.

 _Never ending light_

 _In the darkest night_

 _You're the reason why_

 _I don't wanna die_

 _Away from the Deep Shadow… we fly_

A few moments after this short haunting melody, I hear something I never thought I'd hear again. The sweet beep of a sponsor. Yes, yes! Just what I needed… I'm not sure who would Sponsor me now, as doing so would surely get people in serious trouble, but I sure am grateful to whoever it was. Capitol? My own District? Anything that keeps me alive is welcome right now.

I slowly crawl out of the Cornucopia as a parachute lands right in front of the silver horn. In an instant I switch off the noise it's making – don't want to attract company, do I? - and open up the gift I have been given.

It's _beautiful_ …

A walking cane! Useless to most Tributes in a normal year, but to me a priceless treasure… and I guess to Tamora and Marina. Yikes, these games have been nasty to the feet of people, haven't they? With this, I can stand up and actually get around at a somewhat decent pace. Brilliant!

That's not all I've been given though. Indeed, in my hand I now grip the handle of a highly sharp knife. It looks to be very well made – not that I'm an expert – and has the insignia of a skull on its dull, lifeless, grey handle. The blade gleams in the moonlight. Almost audible, that was. One side is a nasty sharp blade, the other side… well, still sharp but it's serrated. Could be useful. This works fine, as my only other weapon is a taser and I don't know if a taster can actually kill somebody, just stun them. Then again, stunning isn't a bad thing either.

"Thank you," I say to the sky in relief.

Take that Seneca. You may have all the traps you want, but if people wish to Sponsor me something, then you are as bound by the Games as I am… perhaps more. Our battle of wits hasn't come to an end just yet.

There's something else. A note. Reaching in, I pick it up to read. Let's see what I might learn.

- _There is no more money coming in. It was hard enough getting this gear for you. From now on, you're on your own, so be careful._

 _The Capitol are not happy. The Gamemakers are furious, and nothing you can do will make them back down. Snow himself has expressed anger at you. I hope you know what you're doing, as I have no idea. Just don't be anymore reckless than you have been._

 _...Proud of you all the same._

 _Laurel_ -

I smile. I never realised just how much I missed even the smallest form of contact with life outside the Arena. Even now, after how 'badly behaved' I am been my Mentor is still looking out for me. I hope it won't get her in trouble… then again, Victors don't get executed. In seventy three years of completed Hunger Games, I've never heard of it happening. Though, I guess the Capitol wouldn't be obvious about it if they did. When I get out of here, I better warn Laurel… warn her to flee the Capitol before it all kicks off.

"So, the Gamemakers are really angry, huh? Kinda figured it for myself," I say as I pocket the note. "Snow himself is angry though? I guess I've _really_ hit the big leagues haven't I?"

I spend a while trying to get used to walking around with the cane. I fall a couple times and stumble a bit, but eventually I'm getting the hang of it. At least I'm not falling over now and I'm going at a faster speed than just slow walking. For now, this will do.

"Now then, I've been deprived of so much," I mutter, looking at the supplies still laying around. "...I'd say the Careers ought to be as well."

Not just the Careers though, really. Everybody. It's winding down now, and everything they do not have can only help me live longer than them. So that's what I end up doing for the next half an hour. I grab up as much gear as I can carry – I stuff it all in the bag that held the supplies Peeta stole before I put them in the backpack – and dump it all in the lake. I expected it to take longer, but there really was not that much to throw away after I've already claimed the best remaining gear there was.

"No point staying here," I say, looking over the empty Cornucopia. "Not really a Horn of Plenty anymore. Just nothing. Nothing upon nothing. I bet the Careers will be furious, whichever of them gets here first."

I've got my gear packed and my walking cane at the ready. So, as I hold my knife I'm on my way. I'm not sure where to, exactly, but anywhere less out in the open. The Gamemakers can get me anywhere, but if the other Tributes cannot find me then it's one less thing to worry about. Or, five less things perhaps. No, it's four less, Sable won't attack.

I can't help feeling so painfully lonely as I walk towards the perimeter of the clearing. It's leaving me empty, not having a companion by my side. But, I shake my head.

"You started it alone. You're finishing this whole thing alone," I tell myself.

My eyes narrow further.

"Twenty three to save many thousands," I say quietly, even firmer.

Just before I pass from the open moonlit clearing into the forest I hear the Anthem begin. I pause, and slowly, I turn my head back and look up at the sky.

I see the Capitol Seal displayed for us all… all being the six who are not dead. I feel too drained to show the Seal up there my favourite finger tonight, though. Perhaps tomorrow. I plan to be alive by then.

I can only let out a soft, pained sigh as I see Peeta's face in the sky. Seeing his face, devoid of his usual warmth… it feels wrong. I wipe away a tear and keep my face firm.

"I'll make them pay, in your name," I promise. I hope he hears me, wherever he may be. "Rest in peace, Peeta. I… you know..."

The Anthem ends and with it Peeta's face is gone. All is silent once again, save for the chirping of crickets. By now, the rain has almost entirely stopped. Not bad, and I'll cling onto anything even mildly positive right now.

I deeply breath in, and out, and I grip the handle of my knife tightly.

"Only five more left to go," I mutter. "I can do this."

I walk into the forest, and keep walking. I'm not sure what I'm really looking for or what I want to find. I just walk and walk, and try not to think too hard about Peeta's death.

I try, but I don't succeed.

"Clove may be the biggest danger overall," I say, my voice shaking in pain and anger. "But Marvel, _**you are next**_."

* * *

 **END OF DAY 8…**

* * *

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES**

 ** **Marvel (District 1 Male)****

 ** **Clove (District 2 Female**** ** **)****

 ** **Marina (District 4 Female)****

 ** **Tamora (District 6 Female)****

 ** **Sickle (District 9 Female)****

 ** **Sable (District 10 Female)****

* * *

 **THE FALLEN**

7th- ****Peeta (District 12 Male)**** **-** Speared in the heart, by Marvel.

8th- ****Miller (District 9 Male)-**** Cut apart and sliced with a knife, and finished with a stab to the throat, by Clove

9th- ****Callico (District 8 Male)**** **-** Incinerated in a forest fire.

10th- ****Thresh (District 11 Male)-**** Blown apart by Tracker Detonation.

11th- ****Rammy (District 10 Male)-**** Beaten up by the Career Pack, and stabbed repeatedly in the chest by Clove.

12th- ****Rue (District 11 Female)-**** Stabbed in the back with a knife by Sickle.

13th- **Glimmer (District 1 Female)-** Broke neck after falling off the Cornucopia

14th- **Cinder (District 5 Female)-** Impaled herself on Marvel's spear, and then stabbed in the heart by Clove.

15th- **Urchin (District 4 Male)-** Cleaved with a serrated sword by Marina, and then stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

16th- **Katniss (District 12 Female)** \- Two knives thrown into her back by Clove.

17th- **Weldar (District 3 Male)** \- Strangled and asphyxiated by Tamora.

18th- **Jason (District 6 Male)** \- Stabbed with a Kukri and then stabbed in the gut by a spear, by Marvel.

19th- **Wood (District 7 Male)** \- Throat slashed with a large cleaver by Glimmer.

20th- **Nettle (District 7 Female)** \- Stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

21st- **Gadget (District 3 Female)** \- Struck in the skull with an axe by Marina.

22nd- **Lacey (District 8 Female)** \- Impaled with a spear by Marvel.

23rd- **Sparky (District 5 Male** )- Knife thrown between the eyes by Clove.

24th- **Cato (District 2 Male)** \- Mines detonated by Sickle before the countdown was over.

* * *

 **TRIBUTE NOTES**

 ** **Peeta:**** It's not really a secret, but Peeta is my favourite character in the Hunger Games franchise. Naturally, with this being the first time in The Nameless Chronicles where he has a large role I wanted to write him well and do him justice. I think I succeeded at this. He would fight when he has to, but wants to show he's more than just a piece of the Games… and I think he did. Saving Sickle more than once, showing kindness and care, getting our lead to open up to feelings and being attached, he had plenty to do. Sickle may have fallen in love with him but Peeta saw her mainly as a close friend, but still I had a lot of fun writing their interactions and how they played off of each other. Unlike in other tales of The Nameless Chronicles though, this wasn't a tale of love or friendship surviving and this is where Peeta has fallen, hit from behind by a spear. His death is certainly going to be one to torment Sickle. She, after all, let herself get very , possibly fun bit of trivia, originally Peeta was going to place 5th and last just a bit longer. But, more on that another time.


	9. 9: The One with the Feast

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

 **Note:** And here we are, the next chapter and one written more or less as fast as the ones prior to it… maybe even faster, somehow? Fast or not, here we are nearing the end of the Games. Not much story left to go until only one shall be left standing. I had fun writing this one, though I guess that's the case with every chapter, but I do think this one ended up being pretty decent. You be the judges of that though. But not only is it approaching the end of the Games, but it's the start of the hints being given for the 4th lead of The Nameless Chronicles! And so, enjoy the chapter and enjoy the hint below!

 **Hint #1:** This Tribute was aged in the range of 15 to 18 years old.

* * *

It was the worst night in the Arena so far. I didn't sleep well, but I didn't dare try to sleep any better than that. The longer I'm sleeping, the longer I'm leaving myself open to attacks. I managed to get about four or five hours of sleep from a few short naps, changing my location each time I woke up. I feel somewhat rested, and I'm alive, so I'll call it a success. But that's not what made it the worst night for me.

As I sit here in the grove I slept the past two hours or so in, all that is on my mind is Peeta's death. I just keep thinking, could I have prevented it from happening? If I hadn't kissed him, if I'd not distracted him with a hug… such thoughts, I'm trying to just not think about them. It'll drive me crazy if I keep thinking of how I could have prevented him from dying. With so few of us left, if not last night it would have been happening soon anyway… only one Victor, and I am not about to end my own life to ensure he gets out. I… yeah, I loved him and I guess I still do, but Peeta doesn't have the plan to end the Games like I do. And with the cameras all over the place I couldn't just tell him what to do, so it's gotta be me.

All the same though, I'm still wanting to cry as I eat the bread I have. It just feels unfair, wrong, messed up.

"Why did it have to be this way?" I can't help but ask for what must for the sixth time.

Because the Capitol wills it, that's why. Only one Victor, the plainly written rule. A rule that I do not see a way to overcome. Nor do I have a desire to overcome it, not now that Peeta has been killed. Five other Tributes remain and most of them will murder me on sight. I don't think it's foolish of me to not trust them at all, and to fight them as soon as I see them too. Sable alone is the one I do not fear would slit my throat, and I'd rather she be left to somebody else to kill… but if it comes down to it, so be it. Only one Victor, and I'd at least make it quick for her.

"Now what do I do?" I ponder as I sit on the log. "Can't spend all day in the grove, can I?"

Nope, I can't. If I did try and hide away then I'd only be sent out by the Gamemakers. Mutts, poison fog, toxic rain, a fire and probably worse things I've not seen yet. Hiding is not an option right now, only staying on the move is. So, I finish off my bread and sip some water, and after I pack my stuff up I am on the move again. I'm not sure where to, really, but I'd rather avoid the Cornucopia as no doubt at least one of the Careers is there by now, furious over the fact the last of the gear they were not already carrying is gone. I'd rather avoid the lake too, but… that's more for emotional reasons.

I don't want them to see me cry anymore.

The Cornucopia is east of where I am currently sitting. So, I'll go… this-a-way, I guess. Any direction that is not east is as good as any other, really. You'd think by day nine that everything would look familiar, and I'd be able to find my way around the Arena pretty easily, but it's not the case at all. Maybe in my right mind it'd be easy to navigate, but I'm tired, miserable and heartbroken. You try and navigate with those horrible feelings and see how easy it ends up being. Not very, I'd bet.

"Ok Sickle, keep it moving," I tell myself. "You just put one foot in front of the other, and soon you'll be walking out that door to Victory."

The ground in this part of the forest is fairly flat, and not too overgrown, so it's not hard to stay balanced as I walk along. Of course, this walking cane is the biggest aid. It truly came right at the perfect time. But, Laurel said this was the last thing she could get for me and I'm on my own from now on. If any money is left in the Sponsor funds, no way could it get me anything now. I'm really realising just how alone I am right now as I walk along through the forest, keeping alert just in case a tree might fall upon me. Seneca is very fond of that trap, after all.

But like I said, I'm really alone now aren't I? Not just because I'm walking alone in this lifeless forest – could be worse though, as at least the rain has stopped and the sun is shining once again – but because I'm truly alone on this Arena, from inside and outside of it. If I'm going to be the Victor and avoid what is sure to be a horrific, grisly death… it all comes down to my own skills, tenacity and sheer determination in what I do. Actually, how about I list just how alone I really am?

No family.

No friends.

No more Sponsors.

Peeta, Miller and all my companions who would fight by my side are dead.

Sable, the only person I might be able to say a word to without chancing getting stabbed by, is probably miles away.

Clove, Marvel, Marina and Tamora will kill me the second they see me.

"Started the Games alone, and I'll end them alone as well," I tell myself, gripping my knife as I shakily take a breath. "I've always been alone, I can handle this. Even if me winning would give Snow and Seneca a stroke. Heh, maybe that's another reason to be the Victor?"

It's only my paranoia of the trees and my fast reflexes that stop me being crushed to a blood pulp by a falling tree.

"No matter how great a trap may be… use it too much, and anybody will learn to avoid it," I say. "Wanna do my a favour? Point me to where Marvel is. He won't live long..."

I seethe, clenching my hand around the handle of my knife. I can just imagine myself plunging the knife into his back, or better yet his throat. I want him to be looking me right in my eyes as his life ends. See the outer District girl he would be killed by, and who he was helpless against. Just like Peeta was helpless to him.

Then again, Cato was helpless to me… well, another second and he wouldn't have been, hence why I did it. I can't help but wonder, is my current rage at Marvel making me a hypocrite after what I did to Cato, and how Clove has been on a downward spiral ever since? Maybe I am a hypocrite. Actually, I think there's no maybe about it. I just am one.

But, I'll be a hypocrite who won't die. Better that than a dead hypocrite, right?

The Gamemakers do not answer my request to point me to Marvel, and no more trees fall. I bet I'm on their screens right now as they all pitch in ideas for Seneca to use to butcher me somehow. If they're still deciding, then I've got some time to keep moving. That's fine. Every second that passes without me getting hurt is a second that goes by where the other five might be getting hurt.

"Wonder if any of those biting flies might find their way to the others," I ponder. "My arms and butt still sting from all those bites. Wonder what Clove would make of them. Hard to stab a fly."

As I keep on the move, I do feel a tiny scrap of comfort from one thing. There are no extra knives left at the Cornucopia, and Clove lost three of them when she nearly killed me yesterday. She can't have many left at this point, and when she runs out… that'd when I gotta move in for the kill.

I just hope nobody sponsors her a full set of them. Bugger, that'd be so annoying!

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

I've been walking for long while now. It must be past midday by now. Maybe two in the afternoon? I have no idea, I never learnt how to tell the time by the positioning of the sun. But what I do know now is that I might not be as lost as I thought I was. I can remember this place, I was here on the second day in the Arena.

It's the place where I ran my mouth a bit too much the first time and triggered the mass amount of falling trees. And there they are, the remnants of the first trap set off to try and kill me. All the many trees fallen down, still in one piece more or less. I never really focused much on it at the time as I was running away from them – damn, I miss being able to run – but the trees here have really thick trunks. Some have even stacked upon each other… this would make for good cover. Now, if I could just lure Marvel over here then maybe I'd have something of an upper hand against him? He's only got two spears now, and one of them looked to be in fairly bad condition.

Of course, I'd to be the one to lure him here. No way would the Gamemakers want a fight to happen where I'd have a decent chance if they had the power to decide where it would take place.

"Too bad none of these trees have any fruit on them," I say, sitting down, leaning back against a fallen tree. "Apples would be nice right now. So crisp and juice… dammit Sickle! There I go, making myself hungry."

I could eat something right now, but I'd rather try and fight the hunger a bit longer. Conserving my supplies is gonna save my life now that the Cornucopia is empty and Sponsors will cost a fortune even for the smallest of of gifts. Whoever runs out of gear last is probably going to be the winner. Better yet, I won't run out of gear at all.

Still… it's a really hot day. It's gone from raining like a bitch to burning like a bastard. Heatstroke could easily kill me, no need for Clove's knives. Perhaps I can allow myself a few sips.

"Stale water, the National drink within the Arena," I snark as I open the bottle. "Cheers."

I only allow myself a few sips, sips that amount to roughly one mouthful, but I can feel it making a difference. I feel less sweaty and bothered already. I should be fine for maybe an hour or so before I'll need more. Sighing, I relax for a moment looking up at the sky past the forest canopy.

"At least I won't be dying of thirst," I say as I move to put the cap back on the bottle.

I yelp, dropping the bottle in alarm. A dart sticks in the side of it as I lose my hold on it, the precious water spilling out onto the forest floor. No! It's gone, all gone. My water is totally gone! Hmm, do I have a spare bottle in my backpack? If I do, it's likely almost empty. But who cares about water, a dart just got fired at me. Somebody is here, and almost got their wish of killing me.

A dart. It can only be Tamora, as who else has a blow-gun… and isn't dead?

I can't think of anything relating to Peeta, it's fight or die right now. I grab my stuff and leap over to the other side of the fallen tree, another dart being fired, this time hitting the tree itself. The way I'd been sitting a moment ago, that one would've hit me in the gut.

"She can't hit me when I'm unaware she's there but she somehow hits my water bottle, the harder target," I mutter, shaking my head as I grip my knife. "How the hell does that even work?"

How indeed, but I'll seek an answer later if I end up wanting to know that much. I can hear Tamora moving in from wherever she had been hiding a moment ago. She's close. But, she's got limited ammo. Surely she cannot have many darts left by now, this late into the games? That's the danger of a ranged weapon, you will never have very much ammo for it, be it arrows or darts. And right now, she's just fired two of them.

"Better stop her picking them back up," I mutter.

How can I though? If I go back to where the darts lay she will just shoot another at me, and most likely they are laced with poison. Even if the poison was not fast acting, it would certainly kill me before I'd be able to kill Tamora and the others. The only option is to not get hit even once.

"I know you're there," Tamora says. "I hear you shaking, I hear you breathing. You've done well, but it ends here."

"Does it indeed?" I reply, taking hold of a handful of dirt. "And what next after you kill me? Clove is alive, and she'll be furious about you kicking her into the river."

I can tell, even if I cannot see her, that Tamora is scared that Clove didn't drown like she no doubt hoped for. I can just tell it by her voice.

"I just need one dart to hit her from a distance, and then run out of her throwing range," she says, trying not to show her fear. Like me, really. I can't think about it much though, she's very near now. "Just give it up. You're a little fourteen year old. Everybody else is older and stronger than you."

I never noticed that, but she's right. I really am the youngest one left aren't I? Everybody else is fifteen, sixteen or even seventeen. Not that something as minor as an age gap will stop me winning.

"That may be so," I say, hearing Tamora's footsteps right on the other side of the large fallen free. "But you're still shorter than me, and at least I can _see_!"

I act fast, leaping right up and throwing the cloud of dirt forwards. Tamora didn't react quick enough and now dirt is in her eyes. She cries out, one hand trying to rub it out of her eyes and the other hand grabbing a knife from her belt. She swings the blade wildly and blindly, but I'm not staying in range. I'm already hobbing off to a different tree and hiding down behind it. There are quite a few of them here, so she's not going to know where I am, and I'm not going to engage in any banter to give her a clue.

A few long seconds later I feel I've got some of my breath and focus back, and Tamora has got her vision back too. Her footsteps make sticks crack with every slow step she takes. She won't be able to sneak up on me, but I could quite easily take her by surprise and she'd be dead before she could ever react. I grip my knife tightly, trying to keep by breath from hitching.

"Where are you, where are you..." she mutters slowly.

 _Come on, get in stabbing range_ …

"Clove and Marvel may be low on knives and spears, but I have plenty of darts left," she adds. "I let them do the fighting, waste their supplies. It's working out for me now."

I duck lower as I hear her get nearer, maybe checking behind a different fallen tree. That's fine, let her do that. Let her give away her location. I just need to keep hold of my knife.

I can do this. I can feel like a horrid little monster after I'm out of the Arena. Before that, I'll do what I gotta do. One hard stab to the chest, that's all it'll really take, right? Our outfits are not remotely armoured against blades and even if the Cornucopia _did_ have any armour it'd gone by now.

"I'm getting out of this fucking forest, and I'm going _home_ ," she hisses, her breath just a little shaky. "I'm already pretty much a hated bitch. Screwing over Jason won't change anything and at least I'll have some peace in the Victor Village. Come on, where are you hiding..."

I try not to listen to this. The more I learn of Tamora, or any Tribute really, the harder it's going to be to do what must be done. I grew to love Peeta and be so attached to him and all he was, and now I'm left feeling miserable and hurting over his death. I may not feel love or anything for those who remain, but attachment is going to get me slaughtered. Especially with Tamora and her poisonous darts so close.

"I know you're close..." Tamora says as she steps up to the other side of the fallen free I'm hiding behind.

I leap right up and throw myself over the fallen tree. You don't need a walking cane to throw yourself to the ground after all, and especially not tot throw yourself forth right into somebody else. Tamora yells, but doesn't get a chance to use her blow-gun against me, I made sure of that. I'm silent as I bring down the knife.

"Nggghhh, NO!" she yells desperately grabbing my arm and stopping the knife from reaching her heart.

Shit, I forgot to restrain her arms. How stupid I am?! But I have a second arm, and with that I grab Tamora's knife that lays beside her and I toss it away. No sense letting her stab me with it.

I wheeze in pain as Tamora bucks her knee, hitting me right in the crotch. I scream, shuddering from the pain of it all. Everything is pounding right now, but I keep hold of my knife. Tamora spits at me, but even after two globs of horrible spittle I don't break my focus. I ball my left hand into a fist and punch her right on the nose. It's sick, we're both yelling and screaming and my hand feels slimy with the blood from her nose.

"You try to kill me, this is what happens!" I yell.

Tamora's power on my arm is weakening. Just gotta hold on a little more and I will have won this battle. One quick stab, that's all it will take. I don't need to make it hurt too badly, right?

She lets one of her arms on my knife arm go. I can't take advantage of this before she has kneed me in the crotch again, and punched me in my eye. I can't stop myself losing hold of my knife as I stumble backwards. No knife in range, no walking cane, shit! Tamora meanwhile staggers up to her feet, looking dazed and beaten.

"You fight like a Mutt," she groans, grabbing up her blow-gun and readying a dart for it, no doubt poisonous.

"And you fall like a dead Tribute," I say. Lame, maybe, but it's not like I have any time to think of a better remark. Don't judge me!

I grab my taser from my pocket and in an instant I've turned it on and jammed it hard against Tamora's wounded foot. The punji sticks ruined the shoe, lucky for me, and the charged prongs of the taser easily pierce the flimsy bandages. She screams, dropping her dart which lands harmlessly beside me, and then she too falls over onto her back.

"No!" she yells.

I don't respond with words, but by pressing the taser against her neck. Tamora's screams make the Mockingjays fly away from the area, and then the Girl from Six is still. Breathing, but very silent.

"Where's the knife?" I mutter to myself, my body shaking.

I see it, but just as I grab it I flop forwards. Tamora kicked me from behind, though as I turn I see she's not trying to resume her attempt to kill me. She knows when to fold, it seems, and she's scrambling away, trying to stay balanced as she gets up. I make to stab her, but she's already out of range. With her blow-gun back in hand she flees the clearing, limping as she goes. I doubt she'll come back this way, but I had better be sure.

"Yeah, you better run!" I yell, grabbing a small rock and chucking it after her.

I miss, but only just. It has the desired effect though, and Tamora hobbles off just a bit quicker than she already was. The fight is over, and I'm alone. Once again, all is silent in the forest except the wind rustling through the trees.

"...Crap, that girl hits hard," I say after a while. "Ow..."

But I can't sit here in pain. The longer I'm in one place, the more likely something horrible will be set upon me. For all I know they could easily have a second Ant Muttation ready to go. So, with one fight over another begins. The fight to get back onto my feet and keep moving. Amazingly, it takes longer than the fight against Tamora and about ten minutes pass before I'm standing once again, my gear gathered.

"Ok, maybe this way?" I say to myself. "Or, was that where I saw the bear way back then? Maybe this way, yeah."

I've only gone a few steps though, before I remember. The darts and the knife! I can't just leave those laying around, not when anybody could pick them up. But then again, are they likely to be found? Knowing my luck… yes. So, I'm quick to grab Tamora's knife and put in in my pocket. Always good to have an extra weapon, and if Clove isn't holding it then that's just a bonus.

The darts though, they're useless to me. I guess I could stab somebody with them up close, but why bother with that when I have a knife? The poison wouldn't really be worth anything if I am hitting a person point blank anyway. I don't want to spike myself though, or have them leak poison into my pockets. In the end, I just resolve to bury them. I mean, what Tribute is going to think of digging around here for darts? Exactly, nobody, that's who.

I'm aching and feeling pretty crappy as I walk along using my cane, but that's not the issue right now. I may be sore around my eye, my crotch and, honestly, everywhere to some degree… but that, I can live with right now. Dehydration on the other hand, I cannot. My water bottle was emptied, and even if any was left the dart would have poisoned it and I'd not risk drinking it. But the sun is really hot and it's so uncomfortably _warm_. I find myself panting a little, swallowing my spit as I walk through the forest. I may be alright now, but it's not going to be long before I'll be gasping and wheezing. Today is like a heat wave… and I'll be damned if I let Seneca kill the Girl from Nine on day nine of all days!

"Maybe the river is near," I mutter as I make my way along. "Can't be too far can it? ...I'll walk for an hour, and then stop. By then, I might have found something to drink..."

* * *

 **(An hour passes…)**

* * *

I've come to a stop on a log, groaning. I'm sweating and now I'm feeling the effects of being dehydrated. I don't think it's anything fatal yet, but I feel a light amount of dizziness and its getting harder to focus. I'm gonna need water fairly soon. I had half a bottle of it in my backpack which I guzzled down a minute ago, but it didn't help much. So now, while I have enough food for a little while, I have no water… and this is pretty damn bad! With me low on water, it's not a far stretch of logic that Seneca will keep the Arena hot to kill me off faster.

"Damn you Tamora. Of all things to hit, you somehow hit my water bottle," I mutter.

I guess I'll be sucking the dew off of grass to stay alive if I can't get more water soon. But, I guess it's a small comfort that the other five probably have little food or water left as well. If I can stop myself from being too active I could just outlive them by not being as hungry or thirsty.

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen." I mutter.

I'm a girl of action, after all. Even if I wasn't, I'm gonna have to keep active to avoid the others or whatever the Gamemakers send at me. But if I can't get more water, I might end up killing _myself_ from simply wearing myself out.

"Why not just call this year 'The Thirst Games'," I say to a nearby cameras. "Pretty much none of us have any water left, right?"

I'm sitting here for a few minutes, wondering what I am going to do now. I'm not able to come up with any answers besides kill somebody and steal whatever gear they may, or may not, have. Issue is, where are the others now? Tamora has ran away from me, and who knows where the other four might be?

"Better keep moving," I sigh. "Maybe it's possible to drink tree sap or something? I think that one kid in class did it a few months ago and lived."

I'm walking for about a minute, every tired step making the dirt crunch or a twig crack, but suddenly I freeze. Then, I look up to the sky.

After all, it's more or less force of habit to look up to the clouds when Claudius makes an announcement.

"Not an event, not an event," I mutter, shaking.

" **ATTENTION, ATTENTION FROM THE FINAL SIX TRIBUTES, PLEASE. A BIG CONGRATULATIONS ON STAYING ALIVE THIS LONG. IT WON'T BE MUCH TIME NOW BEFORE THE CAPITOL WILL HAVE THEIR VICTOR, ONE OF YOU. MANY RICHES AND WONDERS AWAIT THE LAST ONE STANDING. BUT, IT WOULD APPEAR THAT THE CORNUCOPIA HAS RUN OUT OF GOODIES AND ALL OF YOU ARE STARTING TO FEEL THE HUNGER AND THIRST FROM THIS. BUT, THE GENEROUS CAPITOL WILL SEE TO IT THAT THIS IS CORRECTED.** "

"Generous my ass," I mutter. "Real generous of you to basically kidnap twenty four kids and make them kill each other. Thank you _**so**_ much."

" **THERE WILL BE A FEAST AT THE CORNUCOPIA AT SUNSET. EACH OF YOU WILL FIND FOOD AND WATER IN A PACK MARKED WITH YOUR DISTRICT NUMBER. IF YOU CAN CLAIM YOUR PACK, YOU CAN HELP YOURSELF TO THE CONTENTS WITHIN IT. SOME OF YOU MAY NOT FEEL LIKE ACCEPTING OUR GENEROSITY. YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED TO ATTEND, BUT THINK HARD AB** **O** **UT REFUSING TO SHOW UP… WITHOUT FOOD AND WATER AND WITH THE CURRENT HEAT IT MAY WELL BE THE LAST CHANCE FOR SOME OF YOU TO STAY ALIVE. GOOD LUCK TRIBUTES, AND MAY THE ODDS BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOUR**!"

The announcement has ended, and once again everything around me is silent. But not me, I'm on my feet and already heading off in the direction where I know the Cornucopia lays in wait. I need water and the food is a great bonus as well. The day is getting on by now, but I should be able to reach the distant Cornucopia with a little time to spare if I can keep on the move.

It's not just about the water though. Sure, I need it really badly and the chance of stealing somebody else's pack would help me even further – especially if I can grab a Career's pack – but I bet most, if not all, of the Tributes will be at this Feast. That means I'll see Marvel and where he's going once the Feast ends, as I doubt he'd be struck down during it.

It means I'll know where to go after the Feast so I can kill him.

"Ok, plan is set," I say to myself. "Only thing to do now… don't die."

Well, that and I cannot grab my own pack. It has to be somebody else's. The Gamemakers want me dead. President Snow himself wants me dead. And chances are one of the others could outlive me if nobody had any water at all. Why get me feeling dehydrated and then give me the chance to get what I need to survive? I bet my pack's food and water is poisoned. It has to be a trap! Either I'm slaughtered during the Feast, or I die of poisoned food afterwards. That must be their plan here.

For now, I'll pretend I do not suspect anything. When I get there, I'll show how I saw it coming. I doubt anybody would chase me though if I grabbed their pack… why do that if we all have the alleged same stuff anyway?

Exactly.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

Looks like I was just in time. It wasn't easy travelling all those miles while I'm having to use a cane and feel more thirsty by the minute, but I'm here. Nothing was set on me while I made my way here - except the sun getting even hotter if that counts – so the Gamemakers must be confident in their plan to have me killed.

How very sad for them that I won't be dying today. Though I can't help but wonder, who will? Feasts always leave somebody as a bloody corpse on the ground… well, so long as it's not me, right? If I'm lucky, it'll be somebody dangerous who will be dead within the next thirty minutes.

If I'm unlucky… no, I won't think about it. If I can play this one smart, I won't need to think of that outcome ever again.

"This would be easier if I could run," I say to myself. "Or if my shirt was resistant to blades and other sharp things."

I'm at the edge of the Cornucopia clearing, crouching behind some bushes, and peering out from behind a tree. It's a good idea to have cover, just in case one of the others tries to get an early strike in on me. All five of them could be hiding around the clearing right now – or maybe one of them is inside the Cornucopia? - and I know that four of them have weapons they are good with. Knives, spears, a serrated sword, a blow-gun with poison darts… it's gonna be extremely dangerous. The chances of being killed are high. Lots of danger awaits me once the Feast starts and we all run, or in my case walk, in there.

But, I didn't get this far by running away from every bit of danger, did I? No, I didn't. I won't start now either. Still, part of me does hope that I will be the only one to show up for this Feast… not that I am naive enough to count on that being the case.

"Ok, how am I gonna play this one," I say to myself. "The sun, or at least fake sun, has nearly set now… I better make a plan soon."

Any minute now, the Feast is going to start. What will probably happen, based on past Hunger Games already seen, is that a table will rise from the ground in front of the Cornucopia and on it will be the packs. I need to get over there and grab one that is not my own, and then make it back to relative safety outside the clearing. Thing is though, how do I do that?

And, should I grab my own pack too? Destroy is for the Gamemakers to see, and let them know just how quickly I figured out what it was they were doing? If I could do that and be sure that I'd make it out alive it'd be _so_ satisfying. But, water that is safe to drink comes first. Even with the sun setting and things getting cooler now, I'm still thirsty.

"I don't need to kill anybody right now," I say as I put my knife in my pocket. I could grab it out in an instant if I need to, anyway. "Just stop them being able to kill me first."

And so, I hold my taser in my left hand. One hard zap from this, and anybody trying to kill me will be stunned and dazed long enough for me to get out of there. Just gotta keep a strong grip on my walking cane, and I should be alright. I have to think positive tight.

Even though I am positive this is a bad idea. But so is going without water.

It's not long until the sun has finally set, only the topmost part of it visible above the horizon. The whole clearing is glowing in the rays of the sunset and the silver Cornucopia glows honey orange from the rays it reflects. It honestly looks beautiful, but I don't have the time to admire how even this deadly forest can be pretty.

After all, the Feast has begun.

As I expected, the ground in front of the Cornucopia splits open and a table rises out from the ground. It looks fancy, made of some fine wood I don't recognise and covered with a dainty white table-cloth. But who cares about the table, right? I'm more focused on the six packs places upon it. Small sized backpacks loaded up with food and with a large bottle of water in the side pocket of each, clearly visible. They all match our District colours, so mine is bottle green, for example. I see the numbers on each of them – 1, 2, 4, 6, 9 and 10. Perfect way to tell which ones I can grab and use, and which one I could grab and destroy to spit in the Gamemakers faces.

Should I make the first move? I don't have much speed anymore, and I need water. Going out there right now would increase my chances of reaching the table before the others. Or, should I wait and let them start to fight it out? That way I could grab something when the others are too busy hacking each other to bloody pieces.

"Looks like somebody else is moving out first," I say, inching closer towards the clearing as I speak. Every inch counts, after all.

I guess it was likely somebody else would make the run first, but I did not expect it to be Sable. Perhaps she wants to run in, and then out before it gets dangerous so she won't have to hurt anybody? That would make sense.

She's reached the table and grabbed her pack, but she screams and ducks. From within the Cornucopia a spear is thrown, almost hitting her. Marvel exits from within the silver horn, looking smug and fierce, ready to kill.

"Leave me alone, please!" Sable cries, sobbing as she gets up and turns to flee.

I hear Marvel just laugh as he readies his second, and final, spear. But suddenly he yells in alarm and ducks down. Tamora is moving in, and almost got him in the chest with her blow-gun.

"You! Time to die!" I hear Clove yell from somewhere. Strange she'd say these words to somebody besides me.

Clove is charging out from the far side of the clearing. Tamora fires another dart, but not at Clove. She'd already been aiming for Sable, who squeals in pain as she keeps running. The dart was no doubt poisonous, so unless Sable gets a sponsor right now, she won't get far. But, if I can reach her before the Hovercraft arrives I could get her pack.

"Four to go!" I hear Tamora say.

Indeed. Just four to go until I win.

"Ok, here I go," I mutter.

I'm out of the bushes and trees and I'm in the clearing. It's hard and painful on my muscles, but I'm moving as fast as I possibly can towards the table. Tamora has fled from Clove who now grabs her own pack. She and Marvel, who has his own pack in hand, are staring each other down. Oh. It would help me _**so**_ much if they killed each other right now…

But no, they exchange a tense nod and turn to the rest of us. Shit.

"Look! Look, its her!" Marvel yells, pointing at me.

"Look! Look, it's that retard!" I yell in reply, mocking his tone as I point at him.

I'm moving to the side right after I say this, his spear passing by me a moment later. No spears left, now he's open for a taser and a slashed throat. Marvel himself seems anxious for a moment as I keep moving, but then takes out a knife – a kukri, maybe? - and seems ready to attack.

"You get her on the ground, I'll get the others!" Clove barks, leering at me. "I'll cut you open for _hours_..."

Of course, Clove wants to make a real meal out of killing me and won't want any interference. That's why she'll want Tamora dead first… others? Marina! Yeah, there she is. The Girl from Four is running up from the lake, her sword in hand, and is heading towards the fray. She must be tough to be able to run and ignore the pain her foot probably still has from the punji sticks. Meanwhile Clove charges at her. Tamora is between them, and looks like she's going to run to the forest and abandon her pack.

"YAAARGH!" Marina screams in a warcry.

With what looks like a huge amount of force Marian slashes her sword in a harsh upwards motion. Tamora's screams must be able to be heard for miles, as the sword cleaves her right up her torso from the bottom to the top. In seconds she has fallen roughly onto her back, a crumpled and bloody heap on the grass. If she's not already dead from such a deadly slash, she will be in seconds.

"Die! Die you bitch!" Marina screams, trying to do the same to Clove.

But Clove is skilled, and will not die fast. She evades the slash and tries to respond with a stab, which Marina also dodges. That's how they do it, just trying to slash or stab and dodging whatever the other attempts to do to them. Let them fight though, if they kill or wound each other, it helps me.

I've now reached the table, unscathed so far, and Marvel is there in front of me. No way could I get a pack, any pack, without engaging him in a fight.

"I killed Peeta," he says, smirking. "His last gasps and screams were _marvel_ ous. I wonder what yours will be like."

"Not as good as yours when I leave you even more butchered than what Marina just did to Tamora," I hiss, my hand on my taser. "He was a million times the person you'll ever be!"

"I'm almost offended," Marvel says as he starts to approach me, his kukri in hand. "Thing is, you Outliers are not really people. You're targets."

I stumble backwards to dodge the fast swing of his knife. I try to keep calm. Maybe he believes his own words, maybe he doesn't, but he wants me to get angry and lose my focus. It's what I've said before, when people are angry they start to make mistakes. I can't afford to make a mistake now!

"Just give up," he says, laughing. "Has anybody from Nine killed somebody from One after all these years?"

"I had a little something to do with Glimmer's death," I say, coldly. "And by a little I mean I made her fall off of the Cornucopia and break her neck."

Marvel snarls and suddenly I'm screaming. He just leers, smirking as the blade enters my gut.

"Just wait until Clove gets over here," he says, smirking.

Of course. This is agony, so much pain… but he's keeping my alive for Clove to torture. It's not a lethal wound, and surely a Career like Marvel would know how to hurt me and not have it actually kill me. A nasty stab, but I'm not dead yet!

"Wait until _**this**_!" I gasp out, jamming the taser right into Marvel's mouth.

His muffled bloodcurdling scream echoes around the Arena much like Tamora's final scream did, although Marvel is not dead. As he falls down, writhing in sheer pain I take a deep breath and yank the knife back out.

"AH!" I yelp, shuddering in pain much like the fallen boy. Good thing I have bandages.

Marina and Clove are rolling around, beating each other up. I almost vomit when I see Peeta's head is now on Clove's belt, but I can feel like shit later. I grab up my pack, and Tamora's too – she won't be needing it now- and start to hobble off in the direction that Sable ran as fast as I possibly can. Which is not fast at all.

I'm panting as I go. I'm nervous, tired and afraid. I could take a knife to the back any second, or be tackled to the ground! But still I walk along, and nothing happens. I dare to glance back and see where the others are now. Marvel is still laying on the ground, clearly in great pain – a taser to the mouth would hurt like a bitch, Career or not – while Marina has grabbed her own bag and, sword in hand, is fleeing the opposite way I am going. It seems she's also grabbed Clove's pack as well.

"That's mine!" Clove screams, throwing a knife after Marina.

It almost hits Marina in the neck, but luckily for the swimmer girl it misses. I reach my side of the clearing just as Marina reaches hers. I'm panting, gasping for breath as I look behind me. Clove has ran off after Marina, yelling many a foul word as she goes. I guess right now the supplies matter more than killing me. I bet she thinks she'll be able to catch up to me again later… I doubt she's wrong. A showdown between me and Clove feels inevitable. The thought of it scares me, honestly.

With those girls gone only Marvel – and Tamora's bloody corpse – remains in the clearing. After that nasty jolt, he might be laying there for a bit longer. Time for me to get some distance on him so I can spend a few minutes recovering. I'll grab Sable's pack, get myself suited and patched up and then return. I meant what I said after all, I am gonna be the one to kill him.

As I'm walking through the forest, I see a few footprints in the dirt. They look like they were left by somebody staggering. Sable came this way, like I thought.

I pause for a moment, two cannons firing.

Just three more to go, and I'll have won. It's not going to be long now. But it also won't be long until the Hovercraft comes to remove Sable's body from where she fell. With it, her pack will be taken too. I better be quick.

Thankfully, I find her fast. The footprints were the best clue I could have gotten, and it's not even a minute before I find her. Or, what used to be her. Sable's corpse. She lays lifelessly on the ground, somewhat on her side. Unlike the rest of us, she doesn't look very injured overall. Underweight, perhaps, but not cut or beaten. I shake my head at the waste of life as I move over, kneeling to take her pack.

There. The dart in her chest. That's what killed her. I pluck it out and toss it away. I wonder, does she have anything else I could use? Carefully, I turn her over to see if she was holing anything, but no. Nothing. Any supplies she had when I last saw her are gone. I can't help but feel sad over this. Sable never hurt a single person, and didn't play by the rules. Like me, in a more peaceful way.

"Rest in peace Sable," I say, gently closing her eyes. "You're back with Rammy now."

And so, with the three packs I now hold I'm on my way once again. Slow progress, but I'm still alive and still moving. I hear the hovercraft descending behind me as I leave.

"My heart goes out to District Ten," I say to the sky. "...You Capitol people, high-up and general citizens, you make me _**sick**_. But don't worry, I won't talk about it much. I'll be glad to show just how much you all disgust me once I'm out of this place."

Soon, I come to a log. I sit on it and set down my supplies. Not a bad haul, three packs. Though, I suppose it's two really with how mine is probably poisoned in some way. But I'll let them think I do not know that. I'll draw out their hopes of killing me a bit longer while I bandage the stab wound. It's not just the Capitol who can let hopes raise and crush them. A girl from Nine can do very much the same thing right back.

"Aaahhhh, that bloody stings," I say, wincing as I use a small splash of the water from Tamora's pack to clean up the wound. "Ow!"

The hard part done, I wrap the bandage around my torso. It's lucky I had any of it left with me, and just enough of it at that. Not a perfect solution, but it's the best I have. After I swallow the last two painkiller pills I have left I move my focus to the packs.

This'll be good.

I take the food from Sable's pack and place it into my own backpack. Not anything fancy, just a few meat sandwiches, a single meal bar and a metal container with a serving of buttered mash potatoes inside. The water bottle goes into my backpack too. After that I stuff the food in Tamora's pack into my backpack as well, except the sandwiches. I stuff those into my mouth and drink some of her water to wash it all down. That's good, _so_ good…

Setting down Tamora's bottle I turn my attention to my own pack. I bet the Gamemakers must be watching me right now, feeling such smug triumph. I take out the food and set it beside me, exaggerating how hungry my expressions is. Then I take out the water bottle and uncap it. I ever so slowly raise it up to my lips.

Oh, what a naughty girl I am, shattering dreams like this!

"Seneca," I say suddenly. "A question to you. Why mark our packs with our District numbers and colours if we are all getting the exact same gifts? It's a pointless addition. Second question, do you _**really**_ think I am this stupid? What, do you think I'm a Capitol girl? If I was I wouldn't be in this Arena driving you mad, would I?"

Giggling, I pour the no doubt poisonous water to the ground, making sure none of it splashes onto it. After I toss the bottle away, I throw away the food as well. That's probably poisonous too after all.

"Nice try Seneca, you _almost_ had me," I say, teasingly. "But I don't like the taste of poison. Now, I have the Hunger Games to win. So, as we say in District Nine..."

At this, I lightly bend forwards and point to my rear.

"Kiss my ass, hoe," I say, rolling my eyes.

With that, I'm on the move once more. Time to get back to the Cornucopia. I've got the supplies I'll need to make last until only one is left alive, but I don't think it'll be that hard to do that. Only four of us are left, and they'll be wanting to end it soon. This is always the time where the Games start to get really sped up.

I wouldn't be surprised if all but one of us are dead by the time the sun rises. And, I will be that one.

The only concern is, would they detonate my tracker? ...No, I don't think they will. Doing that after all the stuff I have done, it'd show their hand. Show how afraid they are. If the Capitol show fear of a fourteen year old girl from a poor District, their system would collapse. Fear lets them rule, if if hope were to outweigh fear and be aided by the Capitol rigging the Games out of pure desperation… yeah, I think I'll be fine. For now at least. It'll be a long night, I'm sure of it.

And this time, I can't afford to sleep. The moment I start to dream, I'll leave myself open for a Mutt to eat me alive and now anybody who may help me when I am down is dead.

"Would be nice if I had some coffee," I can't help but say.

* * *

 **(Not much later…)**

* * *

The very last rays of sunlight are gone and the moon is shining down on the Arena now. No longer am I suffering from heat. I just have to put up with the chill of the night. But it's nothing I can't handle until three more die. The rain has returned however, and that is kind of annoying.

Seriously, what is it with Seneca's seeming obsession with rain? I have no idea.

But, it's not toxic and that's a good thing. Better a downpour of normal rain than the acid filled toxic kind.

"A dark night lit only by the mood, and a violent downpour for us to suffer through, Perfect conditions for the finale," I say dryly. How ironic, to have a dry tone in weather like _this_. "Good thing I have a hood with my uniform."

The hood keeps me a bit drier, though after this long in the Arena and all the hazards I've lived through it's not in very good condition. But any little comfort is welcome. Or really, anything that's not jaws on my flesh, acid on my body or blades in my guts.

"Alright, here I am," I say as, quietly, I creep closer to the clearing of the Cornucopia.

The silver horn lays a distance away, lights next to it glowing and making it easily visible for all to see. The table from the Feast is now gone, and the whole thing is empty once again. Actually, no, not quite. I can see some movement over there… it seems I am not alone. I grip my knife, just in case.

"Ok, who are you," I whisper.

It's not a hard guess though when I see the figure moving some more. Only one person left is that tall. It becomes even clearer when they step into the light. It's Marvel, and he looks pretty beaten and tired. I guess his pack didn't solve all his problems, though I guess nobody has the luxury of saying theirs did either, not even the boy from the District who actually make luxury items.

He holds a single spear – where did his other one go? - and holds his pack loosely in his other hand. I can see from over here that his left shoulder looks to be stained with blood. I'd ask what it might have been, but in the light I can see two dead… _things_ , on the ground. Are those birds of some kind? Bird Mutts must have wounded him then, and he killed them. That's fine. It'll make my job easier. But, how to reach him without him seeing me coming? Hmmm…

My thoughts will have to wait a few moments, as the Anthem has started. Unlike yesterday where I was too miserable and drained to show much defiance to the Capitol Seal, tonight I'm much more able to. I gladly show that damn Seal my favourite finger.

Tamora's face appears in the sky. She was a fighter, and clever enough to let the Careers take the hits while she stayed at a safe distance. Those words she spoke in our one on one fight amongst the fallen trees, about her being a 'hated bitch' back in District Six… how I wonder what her life was like. Well, I can't wonder now. Both due to Marina's sword and the fact I cannot let myself be distracted.

I can't help but feel a pain in my gut when I see Sable's face up in the sky, and not due to the stab wound Marvel gave me. Well, probably not anyway. She helped me when I was unconscious, and I could've died without her kindness. No way was she ever going to win with her refusal to fight, but… I just think this kind pacifist deserved better than the Arena. At least, really, her death was just about as painless as it could've been. Better than Miller's death…

The Anthem comes to an end, and all is quiet again besides the downpour. Twenty dead, four left. Three to go. I'm _so_ close to being a Victor and then… well, I know what comes next. But no time to think on that now, not when Marvel is over there. He'll pay… he'll _**pay**_.

Peeta…

"Ok, how do I reach him without being seen," I ponder. "Wait, where are _you_ going…?"

Marvel is on the move. He's heading off to the north of the Cornucopia, past the tail of the silver horn and away to the forest. Is he hunting for Tributes? Though the other girls went the other way and, well, I didn't go that way. But wait, he was on the ground after the taser to his mouth. He wouldn't have seen which way I went and would've been in too much pain to focus on listening to my footsteps. Perhaps he is looking for me right now?

Well fancy that, I've been looking for him.

"Ok Marvel, lead the way to your gravesite," I say as I start to follow after him.

It feels strange, stalking a Career. Usually it's the opposite, with the Careers stalking the Outliers during the night. That or chasing them and butchering them when they catch up. But I'm in no hurry to end him. I'll let him walk, maybe lead me somewhere I could have the advantage upon him.

As he passes by some trees, I exit the clearing and enter the forest behind him. He has no idea I'm so close to him. But that's alright. I'll let him believe he is the hunter. In reality, he'll be the prey leading us to the location of our showdown under the rain and moonlight.

"I wonder what you think I'm gonna do to you," I whisper near silently.

Up ahead, I hear Marvel laugh as he stomps on something before he walks deeper into the forest. As I pass the spot he stomped on, I see he's crushed a baby bird that fell from the nest? Was it alive? Or, a Mutt? Either way, I swallow my puke and keep on following him.

"Because," I continue quietly. "I want to be sure I end up doing something _**worse**_..."

But as I follow him, I feel afraid. If I win against Marvel then surely – as Marina is not in a good state at all – the last battle would be against Clove. It feels inevitable.

I shiver, as for the first time I feel a combination of doubt and serious fear. Could I defeat Clove? She's insane, and skilled.

I'll try.

* * *

 **END OF DAY 9...**

* * *

 **REMAINING TRIBUTES**

 **Marvel (District 1 Male)**

 **Clove (District 2 Female)**

 **Marina (District 3 Female)**

 **Sickle (District 9 Female)**

* * *

 **THE FALLEN**

5th- ****Sable (District 10 Female)-**** Poisoned with a blow-gun dart, by Tamora.

6th- ****Tamora (District 6 Female)-**** Cleaved with a serrated sword, by Marina.

7th- ****Peeta (District 12 Male)**** **-** Speared in the heart, by Marvel.

8th- ****Miller (District 9 Male)-**** Cut apart and sliced with a knife, and finished with a stab to the throat, by Clove

9th- ****Callico (District 8 Male)**** **-** Incinerated in a forest fire.

10th- ****Thresh (District 11 Male)-**** Blown apart by Tracker Detonation.

11th- ****Rammy (District 10 Male)-**** Beaten up by the Career Pack, and stabbed repeatedly in the chest by Clove.

12th- ****Rue (District 11 Female)-**** Stabbed in the back with a knife by Sickle.

13th- **Glimmer (District 1 Female)-** Broke neck after falling off the Cornucopia

14th- **Cinder (District 5 Female)-** Impaled herself on Marvel's spear, and then stabbed in the heart by Clove.

15th- **Urchin (District 4 Male)-** Cleaved with a serrated sword by Marina, and then stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

16th- **Katniss (District 12 Female)** \- Two knives thrown into her back by Clove.

17th- **Weldar (District 3 Male)** \- Strangled and asphyxiated by Tamora.

18th- **Jason (District 6 Male)** \- Stabbed with a Kukri and then stabbed in the gut by a spear, by Marvel.

19th- **Wood (District 7 Male)** \- Throat slashed with a large cleaver by Glimmer.

20th- **Nettle (District 7 Female)** \- Stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

21st- **Gadget (District 3 Female)** \- Struck in the skull with an axe by Marina.

22nd- **Lacey (District 8 Female)** \- Impaled with a spear by Marvel.

23rd- **Sparky (District 5 Male** )- Knife thrown between the eyes by Clove.

24th- **Cato (District 2 Male)** \- Mines detonated by Sickle before the countdown was over.

* * *

 ** **TRIBUTE NOTES****

 ** **Tamora:**** I will say, I think I could have used Tamora a bit more in this story, as while she was a decent minor antagonist in Sickle's journey, she was also just that- under the radar and a _minor_ antagonist. Even with her plan being to let the Careers do the bulk of the killing and take the injuries instead of her, I think Tamora could've spoken more and done more important things. I think her and Sickle fighting one on one was a good scene for Tamora before her demise in this timeline. While some things could've been better, I think other things worked such as her being a number for the Career Pack and more of a negative person than a few of the non-Careers are, and notably her helping the Careers kill her District Partner in the Bloodbath for her own sake. Some good, some things needing work, but this is where she dies. As for what she meant when she claimed to be a 'hated bitch' back in Six… that remains to be seen, for a while…

 ** **Sable:**** After two timelines of being killed in the Bloodbath and seeing just how much grief and rage this caused to Rammy, we finally got to meet her at last. I really enjoyed Sable's role in this… after all, it's rare to find a pure pacifist full of gentleness and care in Panem, let along within the Arena. Cinder is also pacifistic, but not quite to the degree of Sable. After all, Sable has a habit of helping everybody she comes across- heal, not hurt. It was certainly lucky for Sickle that Sable found her, or it could have been the end of her. With her refusal to fight, hurt anybody or even pick up a weapon Sable's odds were low and combined with her lack of food and how quickly she ate it all the Feast was her doom. But, I think she was a good supporting positive role. Sweet and gentle, but also a constant gloom and showing of grief with how Rammy's death affected her. With her death, the final four Tributes are all fighters and all out for blood. No pacifism remains...


	10. 10: The One where Somebody Wins

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games, They belong to Suzanne Collins.

 **Note:** Here we are at day ten, and what a lot of action awaits! Just four Tributes left, but that's more than enough for there to be a lot of things going on within the Arena. I think this one has ended up pretty good, and literally all but 200 or so words were written today. I sure have an issue with writing most of these chapters in one day, not that that's a bad thing. Not much to say really except, enjoy! That, and here's the next hint for the 4th lead of The Nameless Chronicles.

 **Hint #1:** This Tribute was aged in the range of 15 and 18 years old.

 **Hint #2:** This Tribute had odds of 15-1, or better.

* * *

"Will this rain ever stop? I've already forgotten what the sun looks like," I say very quietly, shivering from how cold I feel from the rainwater soaking my clothes.

It's been a while now, just me stalking Marvel through the forest. He has his spear in hand, and no doubt is looking for me- or maybe Marina? - with no idea that I've been right behind him for at least an hour by now. I'm very quiet, and he's making noise. His own rough steps make it impossible for him to hear me, and with my tribute outfit being the right colour to help my blend into the dark forest, it seems the Gamemakers have accidentally aided my mission on this dark, stormy night. Good thing they decided District Nine would wear bottle green seventy five years ago, right?

Right now, my face, and a lot of my body really, is soaked by the rainstorm. But still, I press onwards in my hunt for Marvel. We've been heading uphill for a while now, and I hear can hear him groaning. Perhaps, like the rest of us, he's starting to feel actual pain now. Maybe he regrets volunteering? No, not likely. I doubt he regrets killing anybody either. Though, do I regret it? ...That's a moral dilemma for when I am _out_ of the Arena, not stuck in it.

"Come on, sit down, take a rest," I mutter. That's what I need here after all, him to stop and take a rest.

After all, that's the time where he is most likely to put down his spear, or at least not be as battle ready as he is now. Running to to him in a face to face fight would be a very bad idea, and I know it. I might be confident in my ability to fight him, and I shall never give up until I am dead… but, the facts are solid. Before we entered the Arena I weighed eighty eight pounds and he weighed one hundred and seventy five pounds, so said the betting board. We've both surely lost weight by now, but he's still bigger than me. And our height has not changed… he's six feet and three inches, while I'm five feet and one inch. I'll need to take him completely off guard, and start stabbing him from behind before he even has the slightest chance to fight back.

Dirty tactics, but what choice do I really have when he's got an edge on me in sheer size? He'd not been trying to kill me at the Feast but he will now. Plus, would I want to do something else when it's worked before? Fighting dirty and attacking before my opponent is ready is what killed Cato. ...And Rue. Maybe Glimmer too, as she was on a high point where she was unable to properly dodge those sharp sickles I threw at her.

It's also what Marvel did to Peeta, attacking from behind.

Maybe, like with Clove, I understand Marvel better than I think I do?

It doesn't matter if I do though, does it? Within an hour, one of us is going to be dead and I'm not going to drop my knife and ask him to spear me. I may be many things, but I'm not suicidal. Though one thing I am is really small, like a twig. He's hungry and clearly not in perfect shape, but he's still bigger than me. A marvel in both name and size. If I've lost more weight so far than he has, maybe he actually is more than double my weight now?

I think we're reaching the top of this slope and getting back to level ground now. The moonlight is shining brighter up here. More importantly, Marvel is stopping. He sits upon a log and drops his bag down. I'm silent in my hiding place behind a tree as I watch him. He's not letting go of the spear.

"Wish there'd be a cannon," he mutters.

Of course, he wants one of the others to die, me among them, without him needing to do anything. Keeps him in good shape for whoever his last opponent would probably be. Perhaps Clove and Marina are fighting to the death right now? It's true really, a cannon could fire at any time. A big part of me hopes it would be Clove's cannon, but I'm not gonna count on it. Really, the way I see it… once Marvel is dead, the most likely end result is that Clove kills Marina and then we have our last showdown in the rain… somewhere. I'd love to be wrong about this, though.

Whatever. I'm looking out at Marvel, and the area behind him. Beyond the rain-clouds and the downpour, a full moon fills the sky and shines down on us. It looks like this is the highest point of a cliff. And with how we just walked up a large slope… a fall would surely be lethal. If not, then it'd level the person who fell basically dead anyway, by their injuries after a while or by Mutts. It'd be the perfect way to kill Marvel quickly… but the idea of such a horrible way to die of he survived the fall, it makes me feel sick.

I force myself to think of Peeta, and how this spoiled, arrogant boy in front of me is the one who killed him with such glee. I force myself to think of every second that I can recall.

"Let's _do this_ ," I mutter, my knife gripped firmly in one hand and my walking cane in the other.

I just have to hope my cane won't be knocked over the edge. Crawling my way to wherever the last showdown will happen would be an issue.

Marvel opens his bag of supplies with one hand, the other still holding the spear, and takes out one of the sandwiches we all got. I hear him groaning in pain as he eats it… I guess the taser to his mouth would make eating harder.

"How long until I can win," he groans. "Three more to kill. Can't be long."

Marvel looks around, and seems satisfied he is alone, at least for now, and sets down his spear. Still sounding in pain, he shovels the sandwhich in with both hands. I won't waste this opportunity.

I carefully move towards him little by little, the heavy rain and the thunder covering my light footsteps. It's only moments before I am right behind him and have raised the knife. A stab to the back of his neck, and that's it for Marvel's life and for District One. I take a silent breath ready to stab.

In that instant, the clouds have moved and the moonlight shines brighter. Marvel gasps in alarm. Shit! My shadow, he sees it in front of him! Very clever, Seneca, but it won't be enough!

Marvel acts very fast as he leaps up, but I'm faster. You don't need to have both feet in good condition to kick a spear over the edge of a cliff after all. That was his last one, the only spear left in the Arena. If he wants it, he better go get it.

"I'm here," I say, my knife held firm. "Let's see how you do without your fancy spears."

"I don't need a spear to kill you, and kill you painfully," he says, snarling as he takes out his kukri knife. "You've been a constant issue for the Careers this year. You are really starting to get on my nerves!"

"What, I'm only just starting to? Damn, I'm not trying hard enough," I say, managing to smirk slyly despite my hate for this boy and the rain hitting my face. "Let's go, One."

He does. He lunges, trying to stab me. I'm quick to move back, though it's more of a stumble. Hard to go backwards with this mangled foot and the walking cane after all. Marvel though, he has no such issues as he skids and quickly turns around, making a wide slash in the air a few inches from me. I just stand my ground, looking at him coldly.

"I'm not afraid," I tell him.

"You should be," he says, leering. "Peeta wasn't, and look what happened to him. You should've heard his dying scream… oh wait, you _did_! What a shame, you couldn't-."

I'll never know how that sentence would have ended, but I don't care to know. A hard kick to his knee from my good foot and a stab at his already injured shoulder. Attacking him while he is talking, simple really. So you want to break me by talking Marvel? Go for it, but nobody said I had to listen!

"You talk too much," I say, leering right back.

"Fine, actions over words then," he spits.

I scream, my nose splattering out blood as he headbutts me right upon it. I lose hold of my knife, still buried into his shoulder. As I'm thrown down to the ground, he yanks it out with a scream. His breath shudders as, Career or not, he's in serious pain. But so I am. It hurts so badly…

"Looks like I have two knives now," he says, none of his usual hamminess in his eyes. Just pure hate. Pure howling hate. "Clove may be the expert with them, but I think I could cut a person up with these. Get ready to d-AAARRRGGH!"

I thought he said he was going to stop talking? I just thrust the flat end of my walking cane right into his crotch. I see blood leaking from that area… did I destroy one of his testicles? I must have done damage, as Marvel has dropped to his knees from the pain, losing his hold on the knives. Now is the time to strike.

I don't waste time with any words. I don't wish to waste the breath I'll need as the night goes on. I just throw myself forth with as much force as I can muster and tackle Marvel down. Left hand to right, I'm punching him in the face nonstop, each punch making his head jerk to the other side. Even with the bruises on his face and the blood dripping amongst my hands, he still manages to laugh.

"What, is that how heavy you are?" he asks, laughing. "You're tiny!"

He thrust a hand forth to catch my right fist. I scream as he clenches his hold to painful levels. I try to punch him right in the jaw with my other fist but he grab my other arm as well. I only manage to send one hard kick at his left leg before he throws me off him, effortlessly despite his pain and I cry out, landing hard on my side. I'm shaking, drenched from the rain and my insides hurting a lot.

"No, no..." I mutter, trying to get myself back up, which is a struggle.

Marvel gasps for breath, for air, clearly worn out from the fight thus far. But tired as he might be, he has two feet that are unharmed and so he has risen up once more. Scowling, he kicks me as hard as he can in the hip. I want to cry, but I will not give him any satisfaction.

"How does it feel, your 'rebellious actions' leading to your worthless death?" he asks, his face red from both anger and blood. "How does it feel, knowing Peeta's death was all the more worthless now that you're going to die too?"

I'm not even listening to him, I'm just trying to think of a way out of this mess. I'm very close to the edge now, and it wouldn't be hard for him to just grab me and send me falling to my death upon the rocks below. After all, compared to Marvel I'm tiny. And in so much pain right now.

He seems to get pissed off at being ignored and grabs my by my hair, throwing my forwards. I scream, feeling a sharp rock on the ground stab into one of my legs. But I can deal with that after I get out of this. If I'm dead, the rock won't be a worry anymore. Nothing will be, as I'd be friggin' dead!

Marvel looms near me, holding his kukri. He has a look of cold satisfaction as he raises the blade up and gets within stabbing range of where I am laying.

"Any regrets?" he asks sharply, just like the knife he holds.

I doubt he'll let me finish any sentence I'd come out with. I simply pull a face, showing him my favourite finger. He seems even more angry now.

"Not the way to treat the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games," he says, cold as ice.

"It's the way to treat a dead guy!" I yell, yanking my taser out and jamming it right into his already damaged crotch.

His screams and howls of pure agony echo in the night.

"Never assume your opponent is unarmed!" I yell, pressing it in deeper.

His screams somehow double in volume. His voice sounds warped and almost inhuman at this point.

Suddenly his screams stop, though he seems to be hardly able to stand or focus. Shit, the battery is dead! And it might not be the only thing about to die. Marvel is staggering, moaning in horrible pain. I may have only seconds to act, if not even less. Otherwise, I'll be a stabbed, bloody corpse upon the mud.

Mud.

Mud!

"Thanks for the mud, Seneca!" I say, grabbing a handful of it and throwing it upwards at Marvel's face. "Anything is a weapon!"

Marvel staggers and trips upon me. I hiss I pain as one of his feet pressed hard onto me. FUCK! Owwww, this guy is heavy! Ow, ow, ow!

But while I'm the one hissing and groaning, he's the one screaming. As I manage to sit up, the rainstorm even worse now as it falls onto my face and makes my skin feel stingy, I see why Marvel is screaming for help. _Begging_ , even. He's holding onto some of the rocks that jutted out at the edge of the cliff, gripping them as though his life depends upon it.

And it does. If he lets go, he'll fall to his death below. Storm or not, a big drop of what looks like maybe fifty feet could kill anybody, or leave them horribly injured. He's stuck, unable to pull himself back onto the platform. Both his spear and his kukri have already fallen off of the edge and down below, and he needs both hands to grip the cliff anyway. He is now defenceless, stuck there as the rain falls, sure to gradually weaken his grip.

He's at my mercy.

"Please, Sickle… please," he says quietly, only terror in his voice. No bravado or confidence left. "I don't want to die. Not like this. Please, help me."

I groan from my own pains, now sitting up properly and looking him in the eyes. Only a gaze of fear looks back at me now.

"Why should I?" I ask him, coldly. "You said it yourself, outliers like me are 'not people, just targets'. Why would I want to help you? You'd only attack me again before the night is over anyway. Just one Victor."

"Sickle, please!" he begs me. I can't help but feel sick in unease at how truly desperate and hopeless he sounds. "You can save me, please! I'll help you. Me and you, we can take down Marina and Clove side by side. They're strong, you know they are. _**Please**_..."

I'm silent for a few moments. I grab my walking cane and wearily get to my feet.

"You kill for pleasure. You volunteered, eager to get to the killing. I saw how you tried to intimidate others in the training center. You were very detailed with how you told that Girl from Seven how you would murder her," I say, my gaze firm. I can't back down, I can't let my pity for him take over… "You're _only_ in this situation because you volunteered… for what? Honour, riches from the evil Capitol, and killing untrained kids? There's no glory in that."

"I'm slipping, please!" Marvel screams. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please! Don't kill me..."

I can't help but feel something for him. I can't stop myself feeling this is wrong. But… there's only one Victor, isn't there?

"I won't kill you," I say.

I can see the pure relief and sheer glee in his eyes. It seems almost childlike… creepy.

"I'll let gravity do it," I say, as I grab up my knife.

Instantly, that relief is gone, snatched away. His terror is back, now even greater than before. Now, he knows he is about to die.

"NO! NO! SICKLE, PLEASE!" Marvel screams, wailing.

I can't tell if those are tears, or just the rain. I don't feel comfortable knowing for sure. I'm not even sure if I am strong enough to pull him back up… and even if I was, he'd be back to killing me in a few hours. Maybe he'd even try to drag me down with him?

I turn my back to him, trying not to feel sick and horrified from what I'm doing. I grab up his bag of supplies and walk away, back down the slope. Marvel continues to plead as I leave him to his fate.

It's not long once I'm carefully going down the slope that I hear a shrill scream, and then a loud crack. Even from over here I heard it. That crack must have been the sound of Marvel's spine snapping. I can't hold it back, I puke against a tree.

"...You've been avenged, Peeta," I say quietly.

But as I walk through the pouring rain, I can't help but wonder if Peeta looks at me with a frown from the heavens. I killed the boy who killed him. One way or the other Marvel had to die anyway if I was going to live. So… why do I still feel like he'd be disappointed in me?

 _You're better than that_ , that's what I think he might be saying from beyond the curtain of death.

But, am I better than that? Ten days in the Arena have left me unsure. But, three Tributes left. Just two to go, and I may not even have to fight one of them.

...But if there are three left- me, Clove and Marina – then why has there not been a cannon? Did he survive the fall? But, I heard the snapping sound! ...Oh geez, he must be laying bloody and beaten in the rain, his back broken.

I puke again.

I'm shaking and trembling as I lean against a tree.

"Gravity did it, not you," I tell myself, even if it's more or less a lie. "Calm down, and keep going. You're almost done in this place."

I check what Marvel had in his supplies. A half-empty bottle of water which I am quick to drink down, two meat sandwiches which I also eat, an extra spear head which I discard and a bottle of some kind of medicine. It says one gulp and you'll be 'back in action'. I doubt medicine would be poisonous and I'm too tired and beaten to be too cautious, so I gulp down what is left inside the bottle. The label was right, I do feel better.

"What do I do now?" I ponder as I sit down at the base of a tree.

I feel what happens next is inevitable. A bloody showdown against Clove. My only advantage? She's not found me yet, and she may take a few injuries from Marina. Perhaps I could get myself somewhere that I'd stand a better chance of fighting her? But, where?

Of course.

The place that reminded me of home.

The wheat field!

"Now, where is it?" I ponder, thinking as hard as I can about all the layout of the Arena I have seen in the past ten days. "...Yeah. That way. It has to be that way."

But, nothing is attacking me right now. I'm not being forced to move. It's time to get some of my energy back, to give me the best chance I can get. Because Clove is deadly, and this will not be easy. Far from it…

So, I eat and drink. I eat all the food I have left, as with only a few hours left until Victory or death, I will not need it. I drink water too, leaving myself with half a bottle. That will last me until I reach my destination. Once there, I'll drink the rest of it.

It's not exactly a feast or a banquet, but it is so good. So good! I finish it all off after around half an hour and rise to my feet, holding my cane and my knife.

"Time to go," I say to myself.

I'm only walking in the direction of my destiny, be it life or death, for a few minutes before a cannon fires. I pause, and look up at the sky. That confirms it then, only three left.

As it's the end of the Games there is no need to wait until the anthem. They'll display the portrait in the sky right away. I can't stop a shiver – and not one caused by the cold- as I look to the sky.

After all, Marvel's face is staring back at me.

But, I say nothing. There is nothing to say, anymore. I just keep moving.

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

The night isn't over yet, and it won't be until only one is left alive, I bet. I could see it as possible that, if somehow me and Clove couldn't find each other for a whole day, the sun would still not rise… that and the rain would not stop falling. It's gone from uncomfortably hot to nastily cold. It's cool and there is a gale, though not yet howling like I'd expect. But the rain, it's drenched me by now and the cold rainwater has me shivering madly. I have a blanket, true, but is that gonna do any good here? No. In fact, it had become water logged and was slowing me down so I discarded it. Well, except for the part I cut off and tied around my forehead like a bandanna of some kind. Looks cool if you ask me.

It's been an hour since Marvel was confirmed as dead. Since then, no cannons have been fired. Somewhere in the Arena, Marina and Clove are still alive. I'm not sure what they are doing, or where they are exactly, but I'd prefer if they were injured or fighting right now. Harsh to say it, but the more wounded they are the better chance I have since I'm fairly beaten up by now too.

I would be afraid of the idea of them teaming up to kill me, but no, I doubt it. Clove's nuts, she won't listen to Marina if she indeed thought to make that offer. Clove would only stab her, another kill to her name. How many people has she killed now? I've honestly lost count. Amazingly though, it's not the kill record. That girl who beat people to death with a shoe would be hard to top.

"Can't be far now, right?" I mutter as I keep moving. "I passed that giant tree a while back where I first… met Peeta. It was just a bit beyond that, right?"

That tree was massive and, like many others, was made to fall over. It missed me of course, but _damn_ did it come close. I'm not sure if Seneca expects the trees to do anything though, really. Maybe it's just to keep me on edge, and just 'on the off chance' kind off? He wants me dead. He'll _need_ me dead, or he'd get executed most likely. He has very little time to do so now, with only three of us left. Perhaps he expects that Clove will just finish me off? I will admit, if I were watching I would expect that outcome as well.

But also, if I were him I'd not take the risk. He's made mistakes, but surely the Head Gamemakers is watching me right now, just waiting for the best moment to unleash a horrific trap upon me.

"Yeah, that's it, watch me from your cushy control room," I say, coldly. "You're _afraid_ Seneca. You're _scared_ of me Seneca. You'll _die_ if I win, won't you Seneca? Show the world now, show them you and the Capitol fear me and what I have been doing. Prove me right, that all it takes to make your system fall apart is a short fiery girl from Nine. Show your hand, and your fear of me. After all, the world will be watching."

I've set the challenge. Now to see if he will rise to it. If he does nothing, I can reach the wheat field – if it's still accessible that is – and the final showdown will soon begin. Marina is dangerous. Clove is deadly. Tough either way. Or, maybe he will do something? Maybe he'd even succeed, but he's show everybody that he and those who have power are afraid of what a fourteen year old without fear and without filter can do to them and what she can say. I doubt people would forget if the Capitol were forced to take me out in sheer desperation.

"That's it Seneca, show me what you'll do," I say as I move along, step by step. "Even if I die, people won't forget me, will they? Others like me could follow and do what I have done. You thought I've been a naughty girl? What if two Tributes acted like me? What if _three_ did? Or more? Heheheh."

I don't stop, I keep on the move. I need to reach that field soon, before Clove does. Or, I guess, Marina. And if I keep moving, Seneca has less time to act.

But so far, he's not done anything. Not yet anyway. Unless you count the rain getting harder, and that now the wind has begun to really howl. I almost stumble over from the force of it. The rain falls against me now, making my face sting, but I'm not out of this yet. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to keep on moving forwards.

"Almost there. You can't stop me," I mutter.

I see something on the ground, something wrecked but clearly not native to a forest. A parachute. One long opened, some fruit near it covered in bugs that feast on what little may be left to eat on them. It has a number '11' on it. It was Rue's sponsor, the one that led me towards her so I could…

"I'm _**so**_ sorry," I whisper as I pass the parachute. "I was your enemy, and I'm sorry… but I'll make the true enemy pay for this..."

This was where Rue died, and beyond this place up ahead was where I hurt my arm after Thresh chased me… and that means the field that was once his lair, my current destination, is not far away anymore. I'm getting very close to it. I take a breath.

"I'm ready," I say, trying not to shiver from the rain.

And so, five minutes pass by uneventfully as I keep on my way. Besides the horrible storm, Seneca and the other Gamemakers are not activating any other traps. Well, except one falling tree but is that really notable at all anymore? But there… there it is! The tree I climbed to evade Thresh, the tree that fell and left my arm all crappy. It lays still and toppled, just as it was days ago. The field must be right up ahead.

I almost freeze on the spot when a cannon fires. I keep myself moving, faster now that I am almost there.

It's just me, and one other person left in the Arena. Everybody else is dead. It's one on one. Any second, the dead Tribute will have their face in the sky, and I'll know who I will face-off against for to get out of here.

"Please be Clove, please be Clove, _please be Clove_ ," I mutter as, walking along, I look nervously up at the sky.

I wonder why I feel so worried when I see Marina's face looking down at me. Wasn't it always the way it was destined to go, really? Me against Clove. The Outer District Rebel facing off against the Capitol Lapdog Career. The one who catches people off guard from behind against the one who fights upfront and tortures people with knives. I killed her District Partner and she killed mine. I killed Cato on day one… and now, hopefully, I can defeat Clove too on the final day.

Shit, I hope… no, I pray that before she died Marina was able to land a few serious hits onto Clove with that serrated sword she had.

"It's not one on one," I can't help but say. "Well Clove, it's me and you. It's Nine on Two."

It's a few minutes until I see the Hovercraft descend to collect Marina's corpse. I guess Clove wanted another head for her collection and didn't move right away. That's fine, of course, as it gives me more time to reach the wheat field… but you want to know what alarms me?

The Hovercraft is not even two hundred feet away. _Clove is near_.

"Don't panic, don't freak out. Don't make any mistakes," I tell myself firmly.

I'm just glad I didn't hear Marina's screams, assuming she got the chance to even do that. Perhaps the rainstorm made it impossible to hear her dying cries? Can't believe I'm saying it, but it's a good thing the Gamemakers put on the rain. Hearing Marina possibly being tortured would be awful.

I exit the forest, and there it is! The wheat field, right as it was left… and this time, without the huge guy from District Eleven who would snap me like a twig. And with Clove very close to me, and likely to be driven towards me if she cannot spot me, it seems this wheat field is the location of the 'finale'.

Two small girls with a serious grudge against each other, fighting in a wheat field during a rainstorm… I guess I've heard of worse final battles? I'm just glad the Mutts haven't been released.

"Come on Sickle, be careful and stay alive," I say to myself. It's an order, not a request!

As, under the cover of darkness, I approach the edge of the wheat field it starts to get brighter. Huh… the night is ending. I didn't expect that. Quickly, I gulp down the last of my water and discard my bottle. Good, that'll help. As the sun very slightly rises into early dawn, though not enough to have the sunrays glow upon us, I reach the edge of the wheat field.

"THERE YOU ARE!" I hear a deadly sounding voice scream. Naturally, there is only one person still alive for it to be.

I don't look back, I just throw myself forth into the tall wheat and start crawling forwards through it, quickly. Being small like I am, it won't be a simple matter for Clove to find me in here. I hear the sound of an object flying over me a second or so after I throw myself forth, no doubt one of Clove's knives. That's one more knife gone… how many does she have left now?

I crawl onwards, but soon stay perfectly still. I can hear Clove has charged over, and has started to enter the wheat field.

"Where are you?" she hisses. "I saw you go that way. You can hide, but I'll find you. Five knives, that's all I need to kill you! It only takes one to take you to the ground… and then, hope you've got nothing to do for six hours or so."

She just told me how many knives she has left. Five. Why would she tell me something crucial like that? She must be insane by now, surely! Then again, I don't think Clove was ever completely sane to begin with – was I, actually? - but ten days in the Arena and Cato's death have certainly drive her over the edge and just kept on driving. Me still being alive after all this time, outwitting and escaping her more than once, it can't have been good for her either. It's terrifying, having my final opponent be a Career who intend to torture me for hours.

But, she's not a sane Career and crazy Tributes can be easier to handle than one who thinks logically. They can make mistakes more frequently, and act very randomly. I believe Clove could lose her advantage from her training and bloodlust if she doesn't focus properly… and if she's really gone mad, is focus possible anymore? No… but either way, a knife can still kill and she's deadly with them.

"Ok, carefully does it," I mutter.

I slowly rise, just poking the top of my head above the wheat. Not all the way, just so my eyes are above the top parts of the wheat so I can see where Clove is. She's over there, creeping around with a knife in her hand. Her jacket and her face are splattered in blood that looks very fresh, and I'm not convinced the blood is her own. Seeing Marina's bloody, messy head now attached to her belt with the others, it confirms my thoughts. How awful a death it must have been… and yet, Clove intends to do worse to me, doesn't she?

The heads. Truly the absolute sickest part of these Games this year. I can see them all as she moves slowly along, looking for me. I see Rammy, I see Miller, I see Marina's blood soaked head too… and I have to fight back a choked sob when I see Peeta's head. He deserved better! ...I guess we all deserved better. I'm just glad she didn't get anymore of them. So gross…

The wind blows right at me. Clove turns in an instant, and I duck down. A knife flew where the space between my eyes just was. Four knives left.

"Found you!" she yells.

"Only because the Gamemakers used the wind to help you! Hear me Panem, Seneca Crane is rigging the Hunger Games!" I announce.

Quickly, I'm crawling through the wheat as fast I can go. If Clove catches me, I'm dead! Dead after six hours of torture that is. The thought makes me shiver and want to be sick. But, I hold my tears as I crawl along. Clove is so very near, but she's not charging towards me. Good, she might have lost me again.

Four more knives. Once she throws them all, she'll be left unarmed. That's when I move in for the kill. Unless she has another weapon… I can't assume anything.

"You are a disgrace," I hear her say. "You ruined these Games! You… you ruined them! Blowing up Cato before the countdown was over, you _**cheated**_! You tainted the outcome of everything that came afterwards! You… you tainted my victory! Nobody respects Victors of Hunger Games that had cheaters in them!"

Cheating? I would've thought the fact kids are being taken from their homes and butchered for 'entertainment' was the thing to get angry about, but I'm funny like that. The Careers do see these games different than the rest of us though. Perhaps to Clove, what I did was the biggest crime imaginable.

"It was meant to be me and Cato as the final two! Comrades in the pack, making this Arena ours… he was the only person who ever understood me," Clove says, her breath hitching a bit, her voice cracking. "You being here is a _mistake_! A reward for _cheating_!"

I think I'm a fair distance from her now. Her raging voice, though loud, seems a distance away. Once again, I rise from the cover of the wheat. Clove is slashing her currently held knife at some wheat, shredding it up.

"Where are you!?" she screams. "I'll kill you, little rat from Nine! In Cato's name!"

I whistle, and drop down out of sight. She yells in anger, a knife sailing over me. Three left now.

"Oh, and mutilating my District Partner and taking pleasure in your kills makes you the good guy here?!" I yell, already crawling once again.

As I crawl, the storm is getting fiercer. The wind howls like numerous wolves. It's loud, and I feel trapped. But so long as Clove is not within stabbing distance, I'll put up with it.

"Don't let her escape!" Clove yells. "She can't get away again!"

Who is she talking to? Nobody else is left alive, except us. But, what's that smell right now? ...Crap, fire!

Carefully, I rise again. Clove isn't looking my way, but in glee at the wall of fire that now surrounds the wheat field. There is truly no escape, not that I intended to run away from this fight. The Gamemakers obeyed her request and have boxed us in. They must think this will help her as it means I cannot flee from her. But the thing is… she cannot flee from me now, either.

The rain is making smoke appear from the fire, and the wind is carrying it around and spreading embers. The whole place is going to set on fire if I don't finish this quickly!

"Seneca must be scared of me if he's openly backing you up now!" I yell, dropping down again.

I scream, the knife hitting my shoulder. It flew above it, not into it, but now the top of my left shoulder is cut, and bleeding. I want to cry so badly, but I won't let them see me sob. Not while the world is watching us fight.

"I see you," Clove says, almost singing the words. "I'm gonna cut you~."

The fire is spreading, and I'm closer to it than Clove is. What are my options? Keep hiding until she throws her last two knives and then try to reach her in time to stab her? Or, try to face her head on? Both lead to death, most likely… what other gear do I have left? I only have this knife, and one other, lesser one still in my backpack.

Backpack.

 _Perfect_.

I scream, my walking cane now on fire. I hurl it away as far as I can – no way can I use it now that it's ablaze too – so, for my life and for Panem, I need to stay standing. I need to walk, and walk fast.

"Come on Sickle, don't be afraid," I tell myself. "The world is watching. But, so is Peeta..."

I imagine the golden boy from Twelve watching me now from the heavens. Cheering for me. Telling me I am safe as long he watches me. It's probably all ridiculous, but perhaps due to my already shattered state, I'm starting to believe it.

It's now or never. Peeta, my thanks and my love to you.

I take a deep breath.

"Come on Nine… or, Sickle, didn't you say it was?" I hear Clove say as she looms near me. She's not far from where I am kneeling amongst the wheat. "Let me hear you _scream_ as I harvest you! I killed a lot of people, and now I'm gonna kill you..."

"No, you won't," I say as I rise to my feet, my knife securely in my pocket and my backpack held in front of me.

Clove yells a gleeful battle cry, letting her fourth knife fly. It strikes into the backpack, staying stuck there. It's hard without my cane, very hard, but I begin to stagger and stumble my way closer to Clove. I see the pure hatred in her eyes. As I briefly glance at the heads on her belt, I return that with a glare full of my own howling hate. For her, for the Games, for the Capitol itself.

I'm getting near to her now, not taking my eyes off of her. She could throw that knife any second. She's crazy, totally insane, I see it in her eyes… yet, she's still clinging onto a tiny bit of focus.

A low blow, but it's her or me.

"Guess what? In the Arena event I found a Cato Mutt, and I killed it! I killed Cato _**twice**_!" I sneer.

I feel bad for the low blow, but Clove screams out a howl of fury. A roar, even. Her eyes crazy in rage and her face red, and not only from Marina's blood splattered upon her, she throws her fifth – and final – knife forwards. I'm in great pain now, so very tired and wounded, but I block the knife with my backpack and keep staggering towards her.

"You think you're so tough," she says with a snarl. "But try this…"

Clove reaches into her jacket, and for a moment I'm afraid she has something else in there be it a knife or a bigger weapon. With the fires spreading and the smoke getting thicker above us, it could be all she needs to keep the battle going. The embers are landing upon me more than her after all.

But suddenly she's the one afraid. She's run out of knives to throw.

"What?! Where are they?" she squeals. "Where are my knives?! I know I had more! Where are th-ack!"

I'm still balancing, if only just, and while I have been very slow her panicking and lack of attention has allowed me to close the gap between us. I just swung the backpack right against her face as hard as I could. Not to kill her, just to stun her for a moment. Sure enough, Clove staggers and seems disorientated.

It's time to end this.

Without a word – I have nothing to say right now – I have my knife in my hand and slash her throat with it. One clean slash is all it takes for the blood to spill out and, choking and gasping, for Clove to fall. She collapses with a thud upon the wheat, making horrible coughing and choking sounds. The wound is severe and the blood leaking out of her fast… I'm not an expert, but I think she'll bleed out in probably not even three minutes. No weapons, and this wound…

...I've won.

I can only imagine the chaos in the Gamemakers control room, the fact I've won despite their best efforts to kill me. Snow will be furious, Seneca will now be scared, knowing he will die. But more than that, all eyes are on me. I bet they are thinking just one thing now.

 _What will she do?_

I stand above Clove, looking down at her. I'm close to her, because they could still send a trap or something at me and fix her up. I want to be sure that if they try this, they'd be sure to hit Clove as well. No Victor would _really_ cause them trouble. Not that me being their Victor is much better, right?

She gasps and gags, dying fast. She looks up at me and though I doubt she is able to really pay attention to anything now, I notice something.

Her eyes. Unlike the rage and hate that filled them in our battle… now that the dust has settled, all that remains is pure fear. Just like Marvel only a few hours ago. Unlike him though, I know the water by her eyes… it's not rain. She's crying.

The fire has stopped and the rainstorm has come to an end. As the sun rises, basking the wheat field in the gleaming glow of the sunrise, it's clear my time in this Arena is over. Step one of the plan is finished. Or, it will be once Clove's cannon fires any minute now.

As Clove looks up at me in terror, hardly able to breath from her bloodied throat wound, my grip upon my knife tightens. I'm sure right now everybody, well everybody in the Capitol at least, is leaning towards their TV screens, eagerly awaiting me to start cutting her up or at least landing a final, painful stab to end the Games. Violence is still violence to them, no matter who does it.

I'm shaking, my breathing deep. I only feel disgusted as I look at the heads of fallen Tributes. Clove hurt them horribly. It would be so easy. So satisfying…

It'd be what they want, and I've never made it a habit to give the Capitol what they ask for, have I?

"Are you watching me…?" I ask quietly to the sky, my temper rising.

I pause as I raise up my arms.

"I SAID, ARE YOU WATCHING ME?!" I roar out. "I am your Champion! I'm the last one! I am Sickle Wheatly! Nothing... _**nothing**_ the Gamemakers used to try and kill me worked. I have survived! You sick, sick bastards!"

I'm seething and dazed a little as I kneel down beside Clove. She's still hanging in there, if only barely. The blood is everywhere now. I look at her, and I raise the knife.

I toss it away.

"Sorry, but I've never given the Capitol what it demands and expects," I say. "I refuse to give you the nasty, bloody end to Clove that you want so badly. Just sit there, be quiet and let her final minutes pass. Thank you."

And so, I sit. I sit here in the light of the sunrise beside Clove, making no move to attack her. By now there is clearly no way she is going to be able to do anything, laying beaten and bloody and without any weapons. The battle is over and while the war is not yet won, a moment of relief can start.

Clove is still choking a bit, but most of the sounds she was making have vanished. I take her hand, and just talk. Say how the sunrise is beautiful and a wonder thing to see, talk about the gentle softness of the wheat field and how it's a great place to… fall asleep. Talk about how Cato is waiting for her, and she'll be back with her friend soon. When I mention this, just a little of the pain and fear in her eyes seems to go away.

The weapons are discarded, and only gentle words remain. It's the biggest middle finger I could give to the Capitol right now. My enemy, my nemesis, the Tribute that everybody, myself included, expected to face me in a bloody and violent final battle… I am treating her with mercy as she dies.

"I'm sorry about Cato," I say when her breathing has just about stopped.

I can't tell if she heard that or not, but I'd like to think she knew I felt some regret.

But the cannon fires, so I won't ever know for sure. All I know is Clove is dead. Just like the Tributes who have their heads upon her belt.

"May all twenty three rest in peace," I mumble.

I rise to my feet and spread out my arms. I stumble a bit from this, but I manage to find my balance and bask in the warm rays of the morning sun. I'm battered. I'm in pain. I'm missing chunks of my left foot. I'm going to have trauma from all of this.

I'm victorious.

I can't help but let out a relieved laugh, so glad it's all over. I look down at Clove, and at Rammy, Marina, Miller… and Peeta. Just one last time. I sadly smile.

As I turn around and stumble a step forwards - almost faceplanted there - I hear the final announcement of the Hunger Games begin. There they are, the trumpets that sound when a Victor has been announced.

" **LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, MAY I PRESENT TO YOU THE VICTOR OF THE SEVENTY FOURTH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES… SICKLE WHEATLY**."

There is no joy or grandness in Claudius' voice like there normally would be, not that I feel very surprised of course. Nobody wanted me to win. Nobody Pro-Capitol at least. I'm sure those who dream of a Free Panem, like me, and who wish to see the Capitol burn… they will be happy. I can only imagine the absolute fury President Snow must feel right now. A white beard, but a red face I bet.

But I'll worry about phase two of the plan tomorrow. Until then, I think I've earned a few hours of rest. Rest where I won't need to worry about being cut in my sleep or waking to a Mutt snarling in my face.

"Time to get out of here," I say, yawning. Geez, I am so tired all of a sudden…

I hear engines and the wheat around me is getting blown about. From above, I see the hovercraft descending to get me out of here. As it comes to a hovering stop above me, a ladder descends from it and drops down beside me. I can see from above people gesture for me to get in. They all seem unhappy. I can't help but wearily giggle at this.

"If they're unhappy now, they've seen _**nothing**_ yet," I say to myself.

I reach to take hold of the ladder. The electric current freezes me to it, and the ladder begins to rise once more, taking me out of the Arena. I'm soon safely inside the hovercraft, and once they collect Clove's corpse – and the heads… - we're on the way. I flop myself back onto a sofa, finally letting out a massive sigh of relief.

"Finally, the Games are over," I say, feeling lots of sudden fatigue. I guess my adrenaline is running out. "Hey, uh, anybody got a cola for me or something?"

Somebody wordless passes me my desired drink. I smile at the sight of the delicious fizzy drink I grew to love back in the training center.

"...Drink some of it and prove to me it is not poisonous," I quickly add.

The hovercraft crew member looks annoyed, but nonetheless sips some. Well, proof enough to me.

"To Panem," I say, holding up my drink in a tired toast before I chug it all down, belching a little. "Worth the ten days in the Arena for that drink alone."

As the hovercraft exits the Arena and takes to the sky, I settle down and relax. I'm about ready to take a nice, long nap, and I think I've earned it. But then somebody moves forth with a syringe of some sort. Shit…

"We need to knock you out,' says the women. "We'll fix up all of your wounds and get you looking as you did before you were Launched."

"Let's get it over with then," I say, shrugging as I hold out my arm. I know I do not have a choice.

The injection is quick and clean, and in moments I feel myself fall back onto the sofa, drifting off into a long, empty slumber. In my last moments of being conscious, if only just, I feel myself being moved onto what I think may be a stretcher and carried along.

"This girl is a _serious_ problem," somebody says, sounding afraid.

At this, I lightly smile before I finally drift away from the waking world, for now.

 _I sure am._

* * *

 **END OF DAY 10…**

* * *

 **END OF THE SEVENTY FOURTH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES...**

* * *

 **VICTOR**

 **Sickle (District 9 Female)**

* * *

 **THE FALLEN**

2nd- **Clove (District 2 Female)** \- Throat slashed with a knife, by Sickle.

3rd- **Marina (District 4 Female)** \- Cut up and stabbed in the face repeatedly by Clove.

4th- **Marvel (District 1 Male)** \- Fell off a cliff and broke his spine.

5th- **Sable (District 10 Female)-** Poisoned with a blow-gun dart, by Tamora.

6th- **Tamora (District 6 Female)-** Cleaved with a serrated sword, by Marina.

7th- **Peeta (District 12 Male)-** Speared in the heart, by Marvel.

8th- **Miller (District 9 Male)-** Cut apart and sliced with a knife, and finished with a stab to the throat, by Clove.

9th- **Callico (District 8 Male)-** Incinerated in a forest fire.

10th- **Thresh (District 11 Male)-** Blown apart by tracker detonation.

11th- **Rammy (District 10 Male)-** Beaten up by the Career Pack, and stabbed repeatedly in the chest by Clove.

12th- **Rue (District 11 Female)-** Stabbed in the back by Sickle

13th- **Glimmer (District 1 Female)-** Broke neck after falling off the Cornucopia

14th- **Cinder (District 5 Female)-** Impaled herself on Marvel's spear, and then stabbed in the heart by Clove.

15th- **Urchin (District 4 Male)-** Cleaved with a serrated sword by Marina, and then stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

16th- **Katniss (District 12 Female)** \- Two knives thrown into her back by Clove.

17th- **Weldar (District 3 Male)** \- Strangled and asphyxiated by Tamora.

18th- **Jason (District 6 Male)** \- Stabbed with a Kukri and then stabbed in the gut by a spear, by Marvel.

19th- **Wood (District 7 Male)** \- Throat slashed with a large cleaver by Glimmer.

20th- **Nettle (District 7 Female)** \- Stabbed repeatedly by Clove.

21st- **Gadget (District 3 Female)** \- Struck in the skull with an axe by Marina.

22nd- **Lacey (District 8 Female)** \- Impaled with a spear by Marvel.

23rd- **Sparky (District 5 Male** )- Knife thrown between the eyes by Clove.

24th- **Cato (District 2 Male)** \- Mines detonated by Sickle before the countdown was over.

* * *

 **TRIBUTE NOTES**

 **Marvel:** I think at this point, across the three stories right now that cover the 74th Games through the eyes of Urchin, Gadget and Sickle, he is overall the highest ranked Tribute currently. Given his death in this timeline, I guess that's a consolation? So, I think Marvel played a fairly strong role as the secondary antagonist of the story. Skilled, aggressive, several kills to his name and very arrogant, but while Clove was the most unhinged Tribute, the most dangerous and with a very personal grudge upon Sickle, Marvel was more the straight man, somewhat. Arrogant as they come but with more grounding in logic and reality, and with his head in the Games, he didn't play the same role that Clove did. I think people expected Clove would be the one to kill Peeta, but nope, Marvel was the one to do it. As we know per canon resources, he's very deadly from a range with those spears. I think his death here can make it possible to pity him like the rest of the fallen with how he broke down upon losing the fight, but it was like Sickle said: only one Victor… in this timeline anyway.

 **M** **arina:** I think she had a fairly strong role as well in this tale. After being fairly minor in the other two 74th Games stories thus far I think here was where she broke out a lot more. And boy, what a conga line of pain and trauma it was for this girl here. All she ever wanted is to get home and get back to the life she had, intending to be pragmatic in how she did it… instead joining the Careers backfires when she is forced to kill, almost, her small District Partner. Then the toxic rain leaves her skin a raw, burning red for days. And then the punji stick trap happens, ending with her being killed by the one who forced her to kill Urchin days prior. Not a happy story for Marina, and little by little she was losing her mind, like Clove. Compared to when she first appeared, by the end she was a shadow of who she used to be. A downward spiral kind of arc, and I think it worked out pretty well. Not really a villain I'd say. In the end Marina just wanted to get out and go home, and fell apart in the process, dying at the near last hurdle.

 **Clove:** The overall Main Antagonist of the story, and I think she was a hit here. As we know, Clove is deadly skilled with knives and is somewhat unhinged even before the Games actually begin. As a Career I head-canon she would have a respect for the 'integrity' of the Games and how they are supposed to be played a specific ways, and I also believe the idea of her and Cato being very close. So, combine Sickle basically cheating with Cato being blown to bits as a direct result of this and you have one extremely angry Career gradually losing her sanity and becoming more and more of a dangerous killer out for blood. Indeed, she had a huge kill count with Miller among them, and then there was her habit of using heads as trophies really showed she'd jumped off of the deep end. I think she was a good antagonist to oppose Sickle, and in the end rather than undergoing torture... she gets a fairly peaceful death. Not sure if it's what people expected or not but I think it was a good scene. Clove running out of knives and being slashed when she was panicking may be a somewhat simple way for Sickle to beat her, but Clove is deadly with knives… and when taken off guard, with no time to throw a knife or with no weapon in hand, I can imagine she'd be easier to take out, being the smallest Career. Another death for Sickle to have upon her mind, and overall a hopefully well written antagonist as it appears reception on her has been positive.

Notes on Sickle herself will come at the end of the story. After all… it's not over just yet.


	11. End 1: The One with the Angry Interview

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

 **Note:** Coming in, I didn't expect this chapter to be notably long… and somehow, it's gone and become the longest chapter in the story thus far. Not bad! The Games may be over, but as we all know… even out of the Arena, it never truly ends, really. But Sickle is alive and out of the Arena so it can also only mean more fuel upon the fire. Read on, and enjoy! And, another hint for the next lead.

 **Hint #1:** This Tribute was aged in the range of 15 and 18 years old.

 **Hint #2:** This Tribute had odds of 15-1, or better.

 **Hint #3:** This Tribute was 5'4, or shorter.

* * *

I stir, feeling a sudden awareness of my surroundings. Im laying on something very soft, and I don't feel sore at all. Everything smells clean and, I guess, safe. I feel a bit of a daze within me, but maybe that's just the remnants of whatever I got injected with by that women on the hovercraft. I'm alive, thinking to myself right now as we can see, so at least it wasn't poisonous. I'm alive. But, where am I?

I yawn as I sit up, looking around the room. It's a standard medical room, white and chrome in colour. It's… I guess clean is the right word here? Maybe sterile too? Just a bland medical room, and I'm laying upon a bed. The tattered Arena clothes are gone and instead I'm wearing a simple set of green cloths- a shirt, and pants. Wait, wait just a moment here…

"...Those creeps saw me naked?!" I squeal. "Ew, yuck, yuck, so gross!"

Nothing is really out of place here. It's as basic a room as they come. There's a bedside cabinet with a vase upon it. A white rose is placed inside. Wait, doesn't President Snow always have one of these on him?

"Oh my God, it's a rose!" I yell in exaggerated horror. "Here I thought bombs or knives would be bad, oh NO! Yeah, no, whatever."

I guess a meeting with President Snow is looming, but that's fine. After the Arena I can handle an old man who is in no shape to try and attack me. Not like Marvel and Clove could, and did. I'm alone for now though, so I have time to think about what I might say to him once he arrives. I know he'll try to threaten me, make me scared… but, he's no Cato-Mutt. I'll stand my ground. The only people he could have used against me – Miller and, the boy I loved, Peeta – are dead. I welcome the confrontation.

"Sure feels nice, not aching all over," I say, stretching out my arms and curling my toes. "Wait, what?"

I throw off the covering, and I almost squeal in delight at what I see. My left foot! It's… its back! Not mangled and torn apart anymore! It's just like it always was before the Arena. In fact, every single one of my injuries are gone, totally healed. It's like I never went into the Games, almost.

I would wonder why they would fix up somebody like me who caused them so much trouble and fury, but I won't question a good thing. Being back to perfect health, it'll make the next part of the plan a lot easier. Plus, the best thing about having both of my feet back to how they used to be before the Cato-Mutt got its teeth on me? I can finally walk again. I can run too!

"I'll never take walking for granted ever again," I say as I get out of the bed and start to walk around, to and fro. I missed having perfect balance in my stride.

I can't but giggle and laugh, almost childishly. I'm just so relieved I can walk again. I missed it!

I soon sit back onto the bed, thinking. Chances are the room has a camera or something. They'll know I'm awake by now – how long was I out for? - and soon enough somebody will be here. Laurel would be a nice face to see, anybody would be nice… well, no. I have nothing to say to those of the Capitol, nothing good at least, and obviously any kind of conversation with President Snow is going to be hostile enough to make Clove seem tame.

"Don't keep me waiting," I say out loud.

I lay back, looking up at the ceiling. It's hard to believe it's over really. The Arena at least, as the battle hasn't ended just yet. Not even close. But, I won and the deadly forest is just a horrible memory now. It's honestly surreal, being back in the 'real world' and not having to worry about being stabbed or axed or eaten by a Mutt, or worse.

"I made it. I won," I say, smiling. But soon, my smile is gone. "Twenty three to… yeah..."

I can't help but shed some tears. I don't break down and cry, not this time, but I can't help but look to the ceiling and the sky that must surely be somewhere beyond it. I'm here, but the other twenty three all died for this to be possible, and obviously not willingly. I've not seen the recap yet at Caesar's show and so a lot of probably still unknown to me. And yet… I'm having trouble wiping away the tears when I think of everybody who died young and are now corpses ready to be put to rest in the Tribute Graveyard.

It's like they surround me for a moment, as I think of those who are dead.

Urchin, cleaved by the sword of his District Partner before Clove moved in for the kill.

Rue, who I stabbed in the back right as she promised her family she'd come home.

Callico, who shared his supplies with me and helped me find a way out of the toxic rain, burned to death in the forest fire.

Miller, tortured horribly for being my friend.

Sable, a gentle pacifism who loved so many people and would've never hurt anybody.

Marina, whose final days were a painful downward spiral of torment and misery.

...Peeta, who I.. I think I really had started to fall in love with.

Even the Careers, I can't help but feel sad for. I had a big hand in the deaths of all four of them. Even if the fall killed Marvel and Glimmer, I led to that happened. And Cato and Clove… that was me too.

That's not even getting into those who died without me ever knowing much about them. There's a box of tissues beside the bed, and I'm quickly going through it to dry my tears.

"I'll never forget any of you," I whisper. "I'm sorry. I'll make them pay in the names of all of you, I _promise_. I have a chance now, and I won't waste it."

I'm alone for a few more minutes, gathering my resolve and hardening myself for what is to come. I've done it, I've won. I am a Victor now, and that alone has given me all that I need to bring the Capitol to its knees. It's almost time for it to happen.

"It won't hurt long," I tell myself quietly. "Remember who you're doing it for."

And I do remember. All the thousands and thousands of children who could grow up free of fear of The Hunger Games. All the adults who could live without the cruelty and oppression of the Capitol. A Free Panem, that's what this s all about. What it's all been about.

My nerve has hardened and I know I am ready. It's time for phase two of the plan.

Right on cue, the door opens. The timing sure was convenient- about one of the only convenient things the Capitol has really done for me – and as the door opens I silently take a breath to keep myself steady.

After all, it pays to show strength when President Snow is in the room.

"So, President Snow… we finally meet," I say, sitting up and getting onto my feet as the alleged most powerful man in Panem stands before me, closing the door behind him. "I must admit, I've kind of been looking forward to this."

"I will say, I've also been interested to meet you," President Snow replies, giving a slow nod. "There are few people who would so willingly and fearlessly say the things that you have been saying. Least of all one so young and small."

"Well, I never was like most people. I always do things my own way," I reply, trying to look indifferent. "...So, are you going to start threatening me, or…?"

I see a little amusement in Snow's face. Oh, there is fury and danger in his eyes – only the blind would miss it – but despite the fact he is clearly furious about me being alive, he seems amused too. Like I'm really no threat.

Well, I'll let him think that. I will be _so_ happy to prove him wrong. I won the battle of wits between myself and Seneca, so let's see how much tougher of a for Snow might be.

"To the point, Miss Wheatly, you have been causing an extreme amount of trouble for me and the Capitol as a whole," Snow says, voice cold as his name would imply.

"Oh good. I was worried I hadn't been doing enough," I say, smirking.

"Silence," he says, quiet and with clear warning. "Mocking the power of the Capitol. Insulting me directly. Talking about things the Capitol citizens should never know. The fact you dare to talk of revolutionary opinions and practically _dare_ the Gamemakers to respond to you. The way you cheated using the mines by the pedestals to kill the favoured Tribute. All of these sorts of topics being spoken by you on live television have caused riots in the Districts, lots of unrest here in my city… it is a mess, to put it simply. A lot of dangerous whispering is going on."

"Dangerous for Panem, or dangerous because the Capitol has been made to look weak by a random Outer District girl who has gotten away with it?" I ask calmly. I try to act fearless, but that look in his eyes is scary… and, that smell of blood. Is that just me or is it real?

President Snow chuckles. Even when he is clearly furious at me, he still appears amused.

"You seem to think yourself above the rules Miss Wheatly… no, Sickle. You dare to defy those with power?" he asks, his tone now sounding more dangerous. Yet, he chuckles again. "You have no idea what you are getting into. What pain awaits you. What horrors could be unleashed on those you love. I'm certain, even if you do not seem to fear death, any family and friends might."

At this, I allow myself to snicker. I can't help but giggle naughtily at the red that appears upon Snow's face.

"I have no family," I say. "I have no friends. Anybody who you could've hurt got killed in the Arena. There is nothing you can do to silence me, nothing."

"...Then, perhaps Miller and Peeta's families could die?" Snow says smoothly, almost smugly.

Calm Sickle, calm. Remember the plan. His threats are empty, don't worry.

"...Still waiting for a threat," I say, crossing my arms. "How about I just announce tonight the likelihood of those families dying? If they die, people will know. Capitol citizens will know."

Snow seems to be starting to lose just a little of his composure. That's it, get angry old man. Get _furious_ Mr president. When people are angry, they make mistakes.

"Your Mentor, Laurel," he says simply.

"...I thought you were threatening me?" I ask 'innocently'. "If she's not at the interview, front page news will be me confirming you had her killed out of _fear_ of what I can do."

I take a single step towards Snow. It'd be so easy to just strangle him where he stands. Drain the life right out of him. But no, that's not the plan. Phase two happens tonight and that cannot change.

"I'm _not_ afraid of you," I say, glaring at him.

"...And I am not afraid of you either," he says, almost lazily even with his every word almost trembling in rage. "I've never felt this angry in a long time. But I am not scared of you. Just angry of your words, which could bring about the end of Panem. I had thought Katniss was one to worry about… but no, I see now you are the true threat here."

"End of Panem? If that means an end of a cruel Capitol making so many people starve, suffer, undergo torture and worse things… you better believe I'm going to keep on sparking," I say, standing my ground. "I won't back down."

"You'll _**wish**_ you had," Snow says simply.

"And you're going to wish you'd never had my name in that reaping bowl," I reply. My heart is pounding… honestly, this is a little scary now. But I cannot back down now. I' in this until the end. "That's the issue with random odds… you sometimes end up with somebody who can cause you a lot of trouble taken out of the background and put center stage. Like I will be tonight. Isn't the interview always mandatory viewing?"

"It is," Snow admits. "...Let me tell you now. You will say nothing in the Arena was meant seriously, it was merely the foolish words of a child. You will express your gratitude to the Capitol and what it has done for you. You will submit to what is asked of you. If you do not stick to script and exactly what you're told, there will be _**dire consequences**_. I've not even gotten started on what could await you and many others if you do not comply."

My heart is pounding painfully. I'm sure a little sweat is on my face. Any normal person would back down by now. The Capitol is crazy and relentless to all those who would oppose it.

Thing is, me? Oooohhh, I am even _moreso_!

"No," I say firmly. "I refuse!"

"Then perhaps your District could be Firebombed?" Snow says simply.

"You'd cut off half the Capitol's food source?" I ask. For one scary second I believe he'd do this… but then I realise… phase three. I have to keep going. "That's not gonna stop me."

"...Perhaps a Quarter Quell only made up of five year olds?" he says, smoothly.

The thought of this is sick. It's evil. That… that made me almost throw up in my mouth a little actually. All the more reason to end the Capitol's reign.

"...How about one with Capitol children, that Granddaughter of yours being one of them?" I say, looking Snow right in the eye in defiance. He may be a fair bit taller than me, and I may have to stand on tip-toes, but I want to show I won't be silenced. "I'd say she'd be a Bloodbath death personally."

At this Snow actually loses his composure for a moment. I see there is a small flicker of genuine unease of such a thing coming to pass. Mainly he just shows serious anger, making a quick sound almost like a snake hissing, but I _saw_ that unease.

"I saw that unease in your eyes, Snow," I say, letting myself leer just a bit. "I have nobody you can use against me… but you have somebody who could be used against you, _don't you_?"

President Snow looks me in my eyes. Any trace of faux-politeness and amusement is gone. He looks at me in equal hatred and scorn that I send right back at him. Who needs a knife when you have a fierce glare like this?

"I know you are planning something," he says, scowling. "I don't know what it is, but you're just a little girl. I won't let you do anything to oppose the Capitol."

I step forth and look this evil man right in the eyes.

" _ **And I won't let you stop me**_ ," I say firmly. "Let the Games begin, Snow."

Snow doesn't reply. With one last glare at me, like that of a horrible snake, he takes his leave and I am alone once again. I can't help but gag a bit though, that scent of blood in the air… yeah, I'm not imagining that, I wonder why the President smells of blood… you know what, I do not want to know.

I lay on the bed and relax. I feel hungry, but I've overcome worse than just hunger lately. I'm gonna be careful what I eat right now, just in case Snow tries to poison it or anything. It would not surprise me if he tried to do that. I can hold on until I can find myself some food I know to be safe to eat. Just laying here, nice and peaceful, it's enough for now.

Eventually, maybe half an hour later, my rest is interrupted as Laurel enters the room. She won the Hunger Games many years ago now, being she's in her early fifties I think. Her short-cut reddish brown hair looks a little frazzled since I last saw her, and her eyes are filled with worry. She looks at me, and I can only sheepishly look back at her.

"Hi Laurel," I manage to mumble. "Thanks for Mentoring me."

She looks back at me, looking relieved I am alive but also gravely serious and full of worry. Wordlessly, she embraces me tightly. After all, I think I might just be the first Tribute she has ever managed to get out of the Arena. Like I told you all a while ago, District Nine has one of the worst records. But more than that, I bet she just saw Snow leave in fury and knows I've refused to comply to his demands and orders. I embrace Laurel back, sinking into the hug.

"What have you done, Sickle?" she whispers anxiously. "What have you done…?"

"...I did what I had to do," I reply, hugging my Mentor closer. "For me. For Panem. For the Districts. I spoke out against the Capitol's cruelty, and I won the Hunger Games despite how they tried to kill me. I stood my ground against Snow, and left him speechless. I'm rebelling and giving the Capitol a good kick to the teeth!"

I expected Laurel to look so proud of me. And, well, I think I see a sense of pride at my fire in her eyes. But it feels a little sad that she looks at me in fear, alarm and what might even be a small bit of anger. But it's hard to tell… I can't read people too well as I never spoke to people much growing up.

"This is _dangerous_ Sickle. More than you could ever realise!" she says, very seriously. "I'm not sure you know what you're getting into, playing the open rebel to the Capitol. It's not as simple and clear as you seem to be thinking. It's a _**miracle**_ you're still alive. You don't know the things they do to people they want dead… they can do worse than kill you."

I feel like a scolded child, hearing my mentor say this. But, I have a plan. I know it can work. It _will_ work! I considered every angle… I know what I am doing, and I'm too far in to back out now. What a coward I would have to be, to call it quits and go home quietly after the thunder and fire I set off in that Arena. The fires are burning, and after all… phase two of the plan is to pour fuel upon the flames, and start an inferno. After all, fire will melt snow, if you get my drift.

"They've never harmed a victor yet," I say, narrowing my eyes. "Anything they do to me, I'll fight them until they won't fight back anymore. I'm not afraid to die or get hurt… so many children have died. I think it's about time somebody did something about this."

"...Why does it have to be you?" she asks me quietly. "You're the only one I've ever gotten out. You're just a small girl from Nine."

"Nine, the strongest District," I say with a small smile. "...If not me, then who? If somebody else wanted to fight, they'd have done it already."

"Please, don't get yourself killed, or worse," Laurel whispers. "Don't cause other people to be hurt. Not when something finally went right..."

I hug my Mentor closer still, and for a while we just stay like this, gently hugging. My face on her shoulder, against the side of her head, I whisper very quietly.

"I had what it took to survive the Arena and Seneca, I have what it takes for this. _Trust me_ ," I whisper, almost pleading. "Promise me one thing, Laurel… be on the train out of here tomorrow morning. Get out of the danger zone. It's gonna get really crazy, and well, your Mentoring saved me. I don't want you to get hurt..."

Laurel releases me from the hug, and I find myself a little sad it's over. I've grown to enjoy hugs… Peeta gives the best ones though. Well, gave the best ones anyway. My Mentor looks at me with great unease.

"...What are you-" she begins, but the doors swing open and I guess this will be another sentence I will never know the ending of.

It's the rest of my, well, I guess 'team' is the word used here? The District Nine Escort – a man with green all over him: clothes, hair and skin, the whole works – known by the name of Salazar who chatters about finally pulling the name of a Victor and scolds me for my 'rudeness'. My Stylist - I think his name is Royalty – fussing over how dreadful I look and that I must be cleaned up to be 'permitted' to wear the outfit he has designed for my interview. Bringing up the rear is my Prep Team – I guess a team within a team? - that consists of three very, uh, colourful women I never really remembered the names of. I think they're sisters? I'm not certain. They just echo Royalty's words and in moments are practically frog-marching me off to get all suited up for my interview tonight.

"...See you later Laurel," I say awkwardly. "... _Thank you_ for everything."

My Mentor can only look at me, a mix of worried and wary as I am led out the door and down a nearby hall. As I am briskly walked along, I glance at Royal. I can't stop myself… I just cannot pass up adding a little more fuel to the fire.

"So, what outfit do you have in mind for me?" I ask. "Gonna make me look pretty after I won the Hunger Games, also known as glorified _child murder_ by you Capitol bastards?"

By team is silent, gasping in shock. Seriously, this shocks them? It's hardly the most outrageous thing I've ever said, isn't it? Or are they just surprised that they are not safe from my cold words either? I must wonder… did they truly think I liked them? No, I didn't.

My prep team whisper anxiously to each other, a mixture of scandalised and shook. Royalty is wide eyed, very stunned by what he has heard. His mouth moves but nothing comes out – an improvement I think! - while Salazar, he scowls. Awesome… he might show me a bit of a challenge.

"How dare you," he hisses. "Being a Tribute, and a Victor no less, is an honour! You've been given everything you could ever want! Show. Some. Respect."

"No, I won't!" I scowl, stomping my foot. Childish, but screw it, after the Arena I'll be childish if I wanna be! " _How_ is it an honour, exactly? You tell me! To be forcefully taken from our families and homes? To be murdered at a young age, terrified for our lives? To have so many in the districts starving and suffering whole you sick bastards laze about in luxury and laugh at the deaths of real people, real children? Even the Careers are suffering if you think about it, brainwashed like they are."

I leer at Salazar, looking him right in the eyes.

"Do you have children?" I ask him, overly sweet in my tone. "Would you be cheering and yelling in glee if one of them was in the Hunger Games and had their throat slashed wide open? I _bet_ it'd be an honour."

The five adults are stunned speechless, no idea how to respond. I suspect that they have all been in these jobs for years, and have never before had any Tribute talk back to them and throw reality in their faces like I am now. Then again, in my lifetime no Tribute from District Nine has ever won, let alone lived past the top ten. Plus, most Tributes have loved ones to be used to sideline them, or have a fear of death. I have neither. I did have somebody I loved, but the Arena took him away.

"Well, _why_ is it an honour?" I repeat.

But, still no response. They are stunned silent, opening and closing their mouths like fish. I thought they were assigned to Nine, not Four. I just put my hands on my hips, slowly nodding.

"There is no honour," I say coldly. "You're just laughing and cheering over the deaths of innocent kids. Sorry for standing on my soapbox here, but why should I be grateful to the Capitol when it has to steal from the Districts to survive and eaves everybody else starving through force and fear?"

But, I shake my head. Nothing more to say here, really. The big stuff happens tonight when mandatory viewing will be enforced. The world will be watching, and I'll be taking full advantage.

As I am led further down the hall by my stunned-silent team, I take a few breaths. The Games are truly just beginning, aren't they? The real battle has only just started. Everything before now, it was about getting to the position where I can start to make the Capitol burn. Now that I am here, I'll need to choose my words for maximum effect, really set off a spark once the gasoline of Rebellion is poured over this city. I doubt Caesar will let me speak freely, but I'm prepared to out-talk even him if it's what I've got to do.

I beat Seneca, and left Snow in fury. How hard can it be to be able to say what I want on The Caesar Flickerman show? I don't suspect hard. Perhaps they may try to assassinate me on the stage… thing is though, if I announce this could happen due to fear of me, would they dare to prove me right?

I know Laurel is afraid over what I've been doing, but I've got this. I know what I'm doing, and I always have… more or less.

At least I have a few hours to slightly relax before I get cracking with phase two. Until then, I contently relax once the prepping begins. I never knew it it before, but it's really, _really_ nice to have my hair worked on so gently and skilfully. Prep Team Women #2 really knows how to relieve the stress from my scalp.

Now, I just need to find some poison-free food and I'll be all set. Perhaps some nice lamb stew with mint sauce, hold the cyanide?

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

I'm standing below the stage where the final interview will take place. In a few minutes, I'll be rising up to where Caesar, the Capitol citizens in the audience, the Gamemakers and President Snow are awaiting me. Right now, Caesar is warming everything up, getting people eager for what is to come. I can't make out what he is saying, but I bet he'd have to try hard to get them to want to see me… they all know I hate them after all.

Actually, that may be giving them a bit too much credit. The citizens that is.

Until then, I'm standing on a platform that will rise me up to the stage like an elevator of some kind/ Or, maybe a piston, I think they're called? Point is, nothing to do but wait. On other 'piston elevators' stand my prep team, Royalty, Salazar and, of course, Laurel. They will be sent up to much applause before me, and I'll be going up last. I don't expect much cheering though.

Not that I care.

It's awkward and a little tense though. There are no distractions down here, nobody saying a word to me at all. That, and once I am up there phase two begins and by the end of it the fire I started is going to be a blazing inferno. Nothing compared to what phase three will be but… that comes later. For now, I'm just breathing in and out, trying to keep my cool.

"Focus," I quietly tell myself. "You only get one shot at this. Make it _count_."

Despite my words to my team earlier, I have to give them some credit. They really did a wonderful job on making me look nice. My fiery reddish hair has been styled into a mane of many curls and a long plaited ponytail that hands over one of my shoulders and onto my chest, and my outfit is a sort of emerald green cocktail dress covered in glimmering peridots with thigh tan coloured high boots, complete with shimmering laces. Apparently they are the latest in Capitol footwear. Clearly too shiny for the Capitol citizens to resist, but… I must admit, I think I look nice. In fact, I might even count as pretty.

I try not to think about what Peeta might say about this outfit. Such thoughts are just gonna make me sad, and lose my drive for what will happen above me.

The show is ready to start. I can hear Caesar announcing my team, though not close enough to make out anything too specific. But as is the usual order, my prep team rise up first followed by Royalty and then Salazar. Laurel rises, looking at me with a highly concerned look. I respond with what I hope counts as an assuring smile and a thumbs up. Soon, she has risen to the stage above and now it's my turn.

"Let the Games truly begin," I say, narrowing my eyes and balling my fists.

As my platform rises higher, the cheering… gets quieter. Oh, there is still much applause as there always is because every Victor has their fanbase but I can tell there is less cheering and loud screaming in glee like there usually is. I think they are wary of my, possibly even afraid of me. Perhaps they know that words can cut more than any sword or knife can, if used right?

Or maybe they think I'm a bitch. If they do I can work with that too.

"You once knew her as a girl who came to the Capitol deceptively quiet, and emerged as Victor who was anything but silent! She's fierce and will not let District Nine be overlooked, give an applause for Sickle!" Caesar grandly yells.

I rise onto the stage and the lights blind me for a moment. I have my hand over my face to shield my eyes until my vision comes into focus. It's a huge crowd, just like the night of the interviews. I remember that night, where I tried to be as nothing-special and basic as I could be. Nobody saw it coming. Back then they looked at me in boredom, disdain even. Now, they watch me in fear and alarm.

I see, up on a high balcony above the rest of the audience, are the Gamemakers. Hard to know for sure from here but they seem nervous, and I do not see Seneca among them. From over here though, it's hard to tell. But what I can see that, sitting upon a white chair – or is it a throne – is President Snow.

He's watching me.

Naturally, I watch him back.

Caesar shakes my hand, and I return it as I sit myself down on the seat. It's just like being back here on that night of all the interviews. Right down to the music, the lighting and the exact seat I am in. Except, with two major differences.

First is that the audience now knows _much_ more about me.

Second… the other twenty three are dead, all for the entertainment of the crowd in front of me. I won't let them forget this part, oh _**no**_.

"So, Sickle, where to even _begin_?" Caesar remarks grandly.

"Maybe with the part where you all kidnapped twenty three kids from their families and had them be killed for your _**sick**_ entertainment?" I suggest, putting some sugary sweetness into my voice. "That would be a good place to start."

Caesar holds together quite well – he is the best in the business for this after all – but I can see the alarm in his eyes. He wasn't ready for this. Only fair really, as no Tribute is truly ready for the Arena.

"It is a long-held tradition. Indeed, it does come from a… dark part of our history, but as Seneca was saying to me just a few weeks ago, it does bring us together," Caesar begins, no doubt trying to quell what I say. "A union of state, some would call it and I must say that you certainly-."

"Don't dodge the question. You've asked a bunch and I'm asking _you_ one now," I say, sitting up straighter. "The Hunger Games is literally a yearly kidnapping of children who get brutalised for your sick thrills and 'amusement'. I felt disgusted I had to take lives to win… it takes away what you are, it removes your humanity. Can you imagine the sheer trauma and grief you're putting families through when they see their young ones killed? I didn't say anything out of line in the Arena, I just said what everybody thinks of the Capitol. And isn't it a citizen's duty to be honest?"

The crowd is deadly silent. Ooooh, but I am only just getting _**started**_!

"So tell me Caesar," I say, crossing my legs. "How can you justify child slaughter to make this crowd of idiots happy? The Districts don't like it… it's just, if somebody shows contempt for the Games, they get executed."

"Aren't you afraid of getting yourself into trouble such as that?" Caesar asks. "By your own admission, allegedly people have died for saying what you have?"

"Yes, but has a Victor ever been executed?" I reply. "If I was killed, then it confirms what I am saying right? Silence me and the words they are afraid of. What Snow himself is afraid of."

I look up to the President's balcony, and I scowl. The crowd is stunned, either silent or whispering anxiously. The fuel is being spread, but there is more to come.

"It was tough time in the Arena Caesar, and I won't deny being afraid for my life many times," I admit. "But really, given we in the Districts are forced to watch the horrors of the Arena… it wasn't hard to figure out a way to exploit the Games. I saw a girl one year drop her wooden ball and blow herself to bits… she was from Nine actually, and her family killed themselves in grief soon afterwards. I felt if the Mines are so sensitive, why not just use that to blow up the nastiest killing machine before it begins. I'm… kinda surprised nobody ever thought to do that before."

"Well, it is against the rules," Caesar begins, for once looking a bit unsure of what to say.

"The Capitol can go shove those rules up its ass," I reply, huffing. "Any system can be exploited if you think hard enough, even the Capitol's own yearly execution of twenty three."

"An execution you took part in," Caesar quickly adds, briskly.

Ooohhh, a verbal punch below the belt! Naturally, I may only reply with a verbal right hook in return. Personally, I don't hate Caesar the most of the Capitol people associated with the Hunger Games as he does give everybody a good interview and some kind of a chance, but right now he's the next person in line to overcome. I may be back with social graces, but I sure know how to argue.

"Well, I had no choice, you know?" I say. "I could've tried to win and not kill, but… it would never have worked. I could only win the Games by playing them… and as a Victor, making you all see the odds were not in your favour when my name was drawn. Maybe I did act badly – very badly – but I just did what I had to do to survive, no drawn out torture. I refused to do to Clove what you all so eagerly wanted. I just… wanted to win, and still be me in some way."

"And who are you, inside?" Caesar continues. "A rebel? A terrorist? A person who loves to talk – I can relate to that one, actually – or are you a bigger killer inside than any Career? All four dead, by your hand."

"Yeah… and I didn't even get to train for years in advance due to Capitol favouritism and rigging," I reply. "As for who I am… I said it myself. I'm your champion, Sickle Wheatly. I'm also your worst nightmare."

"And yet, you're only fourteen," Caesar remarks, almost lazily. "Just two months younger and you'd be the new youngest Victor."

"Even the young can be strong. Remember Finnick?" I say. "You act like I'm just a loud fog horn Caesar, like I'm nothing but a shrill voice, but you know what? When I woke up in that hospital room, President Snow was there to speak to me. Oh, but not congratulations, no, he gave me threats if I would no cease what I am doing. He threatened to kill the families of Miller and Peeta, may they rest in peace. He threatened he kill Laurel, a Victor you like. He threatened to fire bomb District nine."

My face must be as red as my hair, but my tone is as icy and white as winter.

"I won't play the Capitol's games. Not anymore, now that I'm here," I say seriously. "I'm out of the Arena, but I'm more than ready to fight."

"And fight you did," Caesar continues. I get the idea that while he may have figured I'd be a tough one to speak to, he didn't foresee it going this far off the rails… and the recap is not even here yet. "After all, as I said, you did play a direct, role in the deaths of all four Tributes from One and Two, and that little girl from Eleven."

Ow! A real verbal punch to my crotch. Only thing to do is an uppercut with my voice in return.

"They had names," I say coldly. "Marvel, Glimmer, Cato, Clove… and… and Rue. I just wish, one day, I could make it clear how sorry I am for the poor girl's death. Like I wish how the Capitol could feel some shade of remorse for all the kids you've had executed. If not those in the Hunger Games then those who get silenced with a bullet by Peacekeepers for 'daring' to plead for water. Apparently we in the Districts would be lost without the Capitol… I'd rather be lost and alive than crushed underfoot and seeing people die every day."

Nobody in the audience is even whispering now. It's a dead silence, beyond total shock. Those in the front row, I can see that their flashy and very altered faces are a pale shade of white. Even he one who I think is meant to have dark purple skin has gone very pale.

"What's the matter?" I ask. "Aren't you happy you were laughing over kids being killed? Maybe for the Quell we could change places, have your kids go into the Arena instead?"

At this, the crowd start to scream and yell out in protest. I think a few even cry. They must hate me for saying such things, but I won't back down. I'll hold my ground.

"I thought being a Tribute was an honour?" I ask, my eyes wide and my lower lip quivering. "Wait… do you mean it's wrong to put kids in the Arena to die?"

The crowd wail agreement. Time to move in for the kill!

"...Then why have you all cheered over it happening to people in the Districts, real people like you and me, for so many years?" I ask, scowling once more.

Once again, the crowd had grown very quiet. I know this is mandatory viewing but I bet the transmission has surely been cut off by now… but, they'll all know why it was, back home. And nothing can stop the crowd before me hearing everything that I have in mind to say to them. Caesar almost whimpers. He hasn't squealed like that since Cato shook his hand back in his interview, though that was more out of faux-pain than outright horror.

"Let's start the footage, shall we?" I say, gesturing with my hand.

"That sounds like the best thing I have heard all night," Caesar says grandly.

The lights dim, quicker than I have ever seen them dim in past years, and in mere seconds the footage is already beginning. Any other year Caesar and the Victor – and the audience too, come to think of it – are silent as they watch the 'show', save for perhaps the Victor smirking and laughing if they are a Career, or flinching and shaking if they are one of the underdogs who somehow lived. Me though, I'm gonna be sure to provide a running commentary to remember.

The footage opens to an ariel shot of the Cornucopia clearing, showing all twenty four Tributes there, either determined or terrified. It's the last minute all twenty four of us were alive. The countdown ticks down second by second and shows everybody. Most of the screentime goes to those who lasted a long time in the Arena though. Those who fell in the bloodbath barely get a few seconds between each other.

And then, it focuses on me as I throw my rock token at the ground by Cato's pedestal. He is blasted to bloody pieces, a shower of gore, and everybody screams and shouts in shock and alarm. But not me. My past self charges towards the Cornucopia and grabs up the best equipment as fast as possible. As Past-Sickle flees into the forest, the rest of the Tributes only now start to make their move forwards. Most of them run in to their deaths, while Peeta and Rue flee for their lives. I see that Urchin is about to run in, but one look at Cato's splattered remains has him second guess this and flee as well, buying himself one more day alive.

"I took no pleasure in that kill," I announce. "It shows though, how easy the Games are to exploit."

Caesar grimaces, but the 'show' goes on.

And now I see it, the Cornucopia Bloodbath. When I was in the Arena I'd fled by now and only heard some of the screams from a distance, but there's no hiding or running now. I'm gonna have to watch it. Every horrible, murderous second of it. I may have tried to be strong in the Arena, but now I can't hide my horror and disgust for what I am seeing happen before me.

I'm flinching and gagging as I see the deaths happen in full, graphic detail. Sparky takes a knife between the eyes just as he grabs a sword, Lacey frantically tries to grab a bag and instead receives a spear through her torso by Marvel. Gadget is dead in an instead with her head almost destroyed in one blow from Marina's axe. But it's only the beginning, as there is more screaming, yelling, horrible squishy sounds of blood and more deaths. The pair from Seven are killed in seconds between each other having been trying to help each other, Nettle stabbed by Clove over and over and Wood ending with his throat slashed by Glimmer. Jason, is grabbed by Tamora – or rather, not just grabbed but also outright betrayed - and thrown to the ground. She holds him down for Marvel to kill graphically. In turn, Marvel knocks down Weldar when he tries to hit Tamora with an axe, and Tamora strangles him to death. It all ends when Katniss has grabbed the bow, arrows and pack and is fleeing the area, taking two knives to her back from Clove. Katniss is dead by the time she hits the ground, but Clove cuts her to pieces all the same for no reason other than she can.

The screen now shows footage of those who survived the Bloodbath running through the woods or taking inventory at the Cornucopia. I'd have rather not watch it though, as what point is there really? It's stuff I never saw in the Games and it never got me killed not knowing it. Instead, I'm gonna pour more fuel into the fire. It's good thing I rewatched the pre-Games interviews before I came onto the stage tonight.

"I didn't know them well," I begin. "But I remember their interviews. In the order that they died, Cato was training to be a legendary Peacekeeper. Sparky loved fire and wanted to expand its power uses. Lacey was skilled with denim work, like a prodigy, and loved to dance. Gadget enjoyed art and had survived on the streets for over a year on sheer refusal to die. Nettle was the Mayor's daughter and loved playing piano. Wood had a fondness for acting and putting on a performance. Jason was schizophrenic and I'd bet the Capitol refused him any help, yet he was still able to get a job as a train driver at only sixteen. Weldar had an IQ past two hundred and was gifted with military technologies. Katniss volunteered for her death so she could save her little sister primrose out of pure love. All of them were better people than all of you, who laze about and party all your lives, doing nothing productive. Did you remember these details about them? Did you feel any kind of sadness over their deaths, besides crying over a lost bet? I bet you bastards didn't."

I can see a lot of the crowd are flinching and very nervous now, some looking a little afraid at what they are seeing on the screen behind me. I see one person already has gotten up and quickly started to leave. That's it, let the fire start to catch, it's not over yet!

The show goes on. I call out Seneca's failed Gamemaker traps, I remind the audience of the worth each dead Tribute had to offer the world if only they'd not been in these sadistic, pointless Games, I remark about how the Games were rigged on me sat several points and I was saved by the kindness and humanity of others. Things the audience lack, as I tell them they are the ones who let it be this way because, gee golly, where would they be without being able to cheer over kids being killed, right?

"I'm not the good guy, and I never will claim to be," is what I say when Rue's death is shown. "...I'm so _sorry_..."

All my worst moments are played out on the screen as the footage goes by, but it's clear to see the self-hatred on my face when I have to do something nasty, something that my parents beyond the grave would certainly not be happy about. As much as they wish to make me out as a monster, or a terrorist, the humanity in grief is still there. Perhaps the Gamemakers don't realise what humanity is? Then again, I guess without Peeta… would I truly know either?

The Cato-Mutt fight where my foot was ruined is shown, along with Callico killing the first Mutt – a Lacey Mutt – within a few minutes of it starting. The whole idea of dead Tributes becoming Mutts is just… I can't express my disgust in words, but I'll try.

"Imagine if you saw your offspring be slaughtered. You'd feel the grief, wouldn't you?" I ask the audience coldly. "Well, imagine seeing them bought back as a monster and seeing them be killed twice. Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful? Yeah, no, it wouldn't. Why put the families in the Districts through that?"

People are starting to cry and look genuinely horrified as the Games recap continues. Multiple people are leaving now, too disgusted and scared to watch anymore of the footage.

And then, it happens. After Callico's horrible, fiery demise which already has me sniffling they show Miller's horrible death by Clove's knives. He's brutalised, and I'm forced to watch every second of it. I can't stop myself, I'm actually sick onto the stage.

"Who would ever find this fun?!" I yell, letting myself sob. "What kind of psychopath would you have to _**be**_?!"

But maybe the audience are not psychopaths? I'm not sure how permanent my words will effect them, but I won't let them forget in any case. As Miller's death is played out and I let myself cry, the audience cry as well. Some puke as well, and a few more are leaving in disgust, many of them ghostly pale.

"I just hope his little brothers were not forced to see this," I manage to choke out. "He told me one of his brothers is only six years old..."

I hear a scream of horror in the audience. Oh, I'm _really_ turning it back on them now! What is usually a recap of the best – or rather, worst – moments for them to cheer over and enjoy has become a living nightmare. A horror movie like no other. I wonder if any of them will have nightmares or some trauma of their own over this now that they are seeing it for what it truly is? It may not be all of the Capitol, far from it, but if this crowd spreads the word then their system is gonna collapse on itself. If even the Citizens are against the high-ups, what chance do they have?

"That's right, this isn't an acted out movie, this is an innocent boy, a friend, being tortured," I scowl past my tears. "I bet you all _laughed_ at his death!"

To my surprise, some of the scared audience wail that they didn't, they 'really didn't'. But, I'm not done yet. The worst part of the whole Games is still to come. I'm barely ready for it, if even that.

But, I still have to move in for the kill and keep pouring the fuel on the fire. I can't leave the stage after all, so I have nothing else I can do… and I owe it to those who died that those who cheered for their deaths get a good, painful dose of reality. Part of me wonders why I've not been silenced yet or the show ended due to 'technical difficulties', but perhaps even now Snow sees me as no threat? Or may be plans for a horrible accident on the train back home to Nine? Unluckily for him, that last one would happen by the time it is already far too late… but, that's Phase Three. Right now, I'll just keep on taking advantage of the focus being on me for as long as it may last.

"Some called this the highlight of the games," Caesar says, talking for the first time in a while as I see Peeta's death on the screen.

I see my past self kiss him. I see Marvel's spear hit Peeta. But, there's no showing of Peeta giving me the order to swim. No showing me crying my love for him. They show me jump, as though I were a coward, and show Marvel kill him in horrific detail. There's so much blood. I'm sick again when Clove gets out of the river and starts cutting his head off.

"See that? They removed how Peeta told me to swim away so I'd not die too. They removed my saying I loved him," I whisper, shaking. "The Capitol refuses to allow romance. Nor any form of basic decency!"

The audience are looking very ill now. More leave, some have fainted and others are wailing. The way they're breaking down now, you'd think that they were being forced to watch _their_ kids be killed. It's hard to comment on though, as I feel almost like I'm dying like the other twenty three as I see Peeta's head put upon Clove's belt. It's making me sick, maybe me cry… could I have saved him? Just one more day with him, that's all I wanted…

I can't help but cry and tremble over what is being shown, how horrible it all was to experience. I've barely gotten over it really. No, I've barely started to, in reality. But I don't care what they do to me. I have nothing they can threaten me with to force me to smile and laugh over the experience. I'm letting out my tears, I'm letting them see just how broken I feel after being in the Arena. After what they have cheered over for the seventy fourth time.

"I miss him so _**much**_ , and I only knew him short a short time," I say once I get my sobbing partly under control. "Imagine how his friends and family feel! Like Delly, remember her? She sponsored him a cookie because he was her _friend_ , not for any personal gain! Just another person the Capitol has taken and destroyed out of greed, violence and selfishness. The Capitol doesn't lead or provide, it has to _steal_ from everybody else in order to survive!"

And so I go on. Every time I see something happen that I can call them out for likely cheering over, I do. Every time I am painted worse than I was, I point it out. Every time I acted like a bitch and it was not altered… I don't deny it. And every time I can remind them of just what the Games have done to another innocent life, I make _damn sure_ they know it.

And ever time Caesar speaks up to feebly silence me, I silence him right back and ask him how many dead kids he has spoken to and just how many of them he remembers, or even expected to see again after their first interview. I wonder… is that shame in his eyes that I can see?

And then, it's the final battle between me and Clove. They show the whole confrontation between us, me sneaking around and the thrown knives. But some of the stuff I did, like saying Seneca was rigging it and Clove calling upon him and the other Gamemakers for help has been removed. Indeed, so has me roaring out at the Capitol when I got Clove in the neck… and they're removed how I showed her mercy and kindness. It's just me slashing her throat and then her cannon, that's all.

"You all remember I showed Clove mercy and gave her a peaceful death. You all saw me call out Seneca and the Capitol… they removed it, and that only proves my points," I say, my gaze harsh as I survey the crowd.

Many of them are crying, shivering, being sick or have fainted. Many have left, and very few who remain are unaffected and looking as they were before the show began. By the end of my interview, I don't think that any of them are going to be smiling anymore.

The footage has finally ended, and the lights have come back on. It's time for Caesar to ask me more questions, but somehow I don't think he's going to be able to stick to the original list he likely had prepared. No idea why, honest. Yeah, _as if_. I've made this go off the rails and it's still got room to get even worse… for them, anyway.

"So, that was the edited footage of the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games!" Caesar begins grandly.

"Or rather, the blatantly edited pro-Capitol footage of the Seventy Fourth Child Murder Games," I say, hate in my eyes.

"I'm… pretty sure the are called The Hunger Games," Caesar says awkwardly.

"Whatever you call it and dress it up like, you're still kidnapping children from their families and having them killed. Most of them are very unwilling," I say, shaking my head in disgust. "Any of you in the audience ever wonder why you never see footage of the Tributes saying goodbye to their families? Because, most of the time, they are crying and wailing in **terror**. They _know_ they are going to be horrible killed, and why? For you selfish, greedy pigs to laugh at as you munch on all kinds of fatty foods you do not need, while the families forced to watch their kids die are not just in constant terror and despair, but are starving too."

The audience look sick. Is it their nausea from the footage I turned into a horror movie for them, or is it disgust at themselves? If I'm getting to them in any way, I'll take it.

"But who cares what I think? I'm just a Tribute who has survived the Arena. _Surely_ there aren't other people alive who probably feel the same way I do," I say coldly. "So let's get this over and done with Caesar, ask me anything."

That's how it goes for the next hour up to when the show ends. Caesar asks me a question about myself or my time within the Arena and I answer it, but always in a way that makes the Capitol look worse. The audience cries out in shock and horror at several points, but still no move is taken against me. After hours of my blatant rebellion and how I have been scaring and challenge the citizens, some of them seeming to believe everything I say… I wonder, why take no move on me right now? It's clear what I am saying is having an effect now, surely Snow knows this? Ah, because that would prove me right. They would prefer to do so where it can at least be made to plausibly seem like an accident and then they'd spend the time until the next games probably using propaganda to reverse the effect of my interview. A convincing plan. Well, to an idiot anyway. Lucky for them, this is the Capitol.

Caesar looks tired, but also seriously relieved by the time he gets to the very last question. I almost feel bad for the guy. Ok Caesar, let's finish so you can go have a manicure or something. I look to the audience. Those who remain are sick, trembling and whispering in horror. Many have left already, some on their phones when they left and no doubt are starting to spread the word right now. Perfect! Exactly what I wanted.

"So, Sickle… it's been a _**very**_ long night from us all," Caesar says with an exhausted chuckle. The chuckle sounds forced, to put it lightly. "But, it's time for the show to end. But first, there's a question I always ask every new Victor at the end of their interview. With your, uh, very direct and detailed thoughts on the Hunger Games I suppose you know what I mean, but all the same… who is your favourite Victor?"

An easy question, I don't even need to think about this one.

"Mizar Aldjoy, the first Victor that there ever was," I say promptly. "He killed once in pure self-defence and never took the slightest bit of pleasure in any of it. He was scared, and alone… but, he was human. He had feelings, emotions and he used his winnings to help as many people as he could even with the Capitol trying to stop his charity to those who starved daily. He's a paragon to us back in District Nine. I just wish… I could have met him, and maybe been a bit more like him than I've acted, but… sometimes, you can only try."

"Ah, Mizar. Naturally, he was before my time, both when I got this job and before I was born but I did meet him a few times later in his life and he was always charming company," Caesar muses. "There was one time he beat me at a drinking contest, can you believe it?"

"I can," I say simply. "Grain is also for beer and wine after all, not just bread."

I cross my legs again, wiping away my last tears.

"Mizar was great, but you know… I do have two others who are very close to being my favourite," I admit. "Not counting Laurel, as it goes without saying she'd be at the top. Haymitch and Johanna."

"Very interesting choices there," Caesar notes. "Why is that?"

He looks relaxed. Ok, here we go… time to move in for the _**KILL**_. It's been a night of doing that, true, but this one won't be forgotten, not a chance.

"Because they both dared to defy the Capitol, and the Capitol's reactions to them have proven right everything I have told you tonight," I say, feeling almost on fire. "Haymitch used the force field to win, and in response the 'generous' Capitol murdered his family and his girlfriend. Sadists! Meanwhile Snow wanted to prostitute Johanna and she refused, so he killed her family. Murderers! It's amazing what you can learn when you are quite, and just listen. This is what you 'great leader' and 'precious city' does to people it doesn't like, it kills them!"

The crowd are yelling, screaming and rioting before me. I gaze up at Snow, and I make that same symbol District Twelve did at Katniss' reaping. I feel it might be appropriate her. As in, it's so inappropriate that I can't not use it.

Your move Snow.

As I am quickly being escorted off of the stage by my team and some Peacekeepers while other Peacekeepers try to calm the screaming crowd Caesar adds on one last question.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks me.

I look back at him as I'm led away.

"When all is said and done, we only have our choices… and our fear of making them," I say calmly. "This is my choice."

* * *

 **(An hour later…)**

* * *

After the show ended I'd been taken to an armoured car, and from there it was off to the President's mansion for a party. There's always a party, but never one that I've seen as they do not get recorded for anybody in the Districts to see, even those in the Victor's District. But cameras or not, I'm sure that there is a chance for me to stir up more rebellious whispers here somewhere.

Ok, when I say 'whispers' I actually mean 'screaming riots'. Anyway, I would assume normally the party would be loud and full of chatter, constant eating and loud music. But, no, it's actually very quiet. It may be very fancy, sure, and there are a lot of people here to partake in what was probably going to be a night of decadent - that's a word, right? - celebrations, but I think I may have have a small part in stopping that from being possible.

Alright, fine, not so much a small part as directly responsible. The rich Capitol citizens do not laugh or cheer or dance, or even eat any of the banquet set up. Ever since some of them did and then used that strange drink to puke it up so they could eat more, I tore into them and said how there are people starving to death in the Districts every day. After that, all eating ceased and a few of the guests were quick to leave, trembling.

...Am I a terrorist now?

Whatever it is that I am, people are avoiding me. None of them are standing near me at all… in fact whenever I move they are quick to step far away from me. It's like I'm repelling them magnetically or something, you know? I don't mind though, as I always was a loner. Well, I did have somebody I really wanted to spend years with, but… Peeta's dead, and if not by Marvel it would've been somebody else.

I would toast a drink to Peeta, but I don't want to risk eating or drinking anything here in case it is poisonous. I'll do that once I find a drink that I am certain isn't going to get me kill if I drink it. I'm hungry, but I've been hungry a lot in life. I can stand that for one more night, no problem.

As I stand at the edge of the main party room, lightly swaying on my heels along with the music, I suddenly feel like I am not alone. A strange thing, with how everybody else has given me such a distance, not that I minded. But I see a man walking up to me… aw shit, he's a Gamemaker isn't he? A vague memory flickers in the back of my mind… I think this guy was the only one who paid any attention during my private training session? Not that I showed them much, as I was trying to get a low score anyway.

But what was his name? Mr Who? Sir Dunno? I never got the man's name, but I see his hair is a little greying, his clothes a dark, deep shade of purple and while he dresses very fancy, it's a little subdued too. Strange combination right? I see he also has a fancy watch. I guess Gamemakers get paid a lot… paid for murder. I guess crime really _does_ pay, huh?

"Hi?" I say awkwardly. "You're the one who actually paid attention to me in my private training session. Not that I minded as I wanted to score low, but a bit unfair to the outer Districts isn't it? And when I say I bit, I mean so much that it gets them killed."

"I'm inclined to agree with you on that. Sadly, there is little that can be done on that with the way my colleagues are and how the sessions take time," he says. Wait, he _agrees_? "Plutarch Heavensbee. Gamemaker. Possibly the next Head Gamemaker once Seneca is… disposed of."

"Seneca's not dead yet? That's a surprise," I note. I figured he'd have been butchered the moment Clove's cannon fired. "I guess you're all not very happy with me for not being dead. Fun fact, I'm not happy with any of you for the traps, the Mutts and all the other horrors Tributes face every damn year. Don't act like you're any better than me. We're both killers."

"You know, it is very rare that a Tribute ever speaks out in the way you have. Honestly… you truly do strike me as fearless. Nothing seems to stop you from continuing your crusade, not any physical pain or threats. It's rarer still you survived the Arena… nobody as Anti-Capitol as you has survived the Hunger Games before," he says, looking calculating. "I'm not sure what your end goal here is Sickle, but… you're starting a fire."

"Oh good, that was the whole point of Phase two," I say, snickering. Crap! I shouldn't have mentioned the words 'phase two'… "What, people crying over me calling them greedy?"

"Many of the Districts have begun to form riots. Not outright massive, but it's impossible to ignore. There have also been riots and even protests in some areas of the Capitol itself," he says, his face neutral and impossible for me to read. "Damages have been high, and already there have been reported causalities."

I try not to flinch at the idea of all the deaths. But, this is war isn't it? There is literally no possible way to beat the Capitol at their own games without people dying… and really, I've seen death before. It seems to get easier to hear about it after you've seen it in the Arena, and even in your home District.

"Looks like fire is catching," I say, crossing my arms. "Nothing can last forever… not even the Capitol can."

"...Your have an inferno in your actions, though it feels a little misdirected. With focus, you could leave the Capitol choking and writhing," Plutarch says, looking at me curiously. Like the one somebody might look at a new invention, and wonder how it works. "But whatever your plans, your hatred for the Capitol, your dreams for the Districts and whatever Phase three in your crusade might be..."

He trails off, taking out his watch to look over.

"A little fact," he says, looking at his watch as he talks to me. "The Cornucopia is grey, the forest Arena very green and the blood a nasty shade of red. But all these colours… they do not form black and white. Neither do all of the colours of Panem."

He angles his watch for me to see. For a brief moment, it looks like a Mockingjay… I think I've seen those birds in some of the trees by the wheatfield back in Nine. ...Is he mocking me, or something? I'm not sure of the goals this man has, much like how he doesn't know what I have in mind either. Oh, but tomorrow he and everybody will see. After all, the crowning of the Victor is forced viewing for everybody.

"I must be going," Plutarch says. "Meeting plans to discuss the Quell, you see. It may be a year away, but for a Gamemaker that's like only a week of time, really."

"Then go," I say, smiling almost mischievously. But, my eyes are hard. " A year? That's enough time to stop it from ever happening."

Plutarch gives me that same curious, calculating look and he is soon gone. I'm surprised though, I would've expected a lot of anger or threats, or both, like others have given me. But no, the man kept his cool. Interesting, but I don't see that being important. After all, even while the party started to relax a tiny bit while I was distracted, now that I'm on the move again they start to shiver and mumble as I walk by – that's it, you guys question your way of life, I insist – and sit at an empty table. Shouldn't be long now until I leave, and hearing that confirmation of riots in the Districts and the Capitol itself, that means the mission is almost complete.

Almost.

Just as long as they're all on edge and still nervous by tomorrow, then the plan is a success. I wonder though, if I'd been bold and brave enough to volunteer when I was thirteen, or maybe even twelve could I have pulled off the same end result? Victory in the Hunger Games? Mayer not, but I do have to ask myself… could I have prevented forty six more children from dying? I guess I'll never know. But I do know, I can stop twenty three dying next year. I _know_ I can. I must.

I just have to.

All goes silent… or, I guess silent-er. I look up, broken from my thoughts, and see President Snow is walking down the stairs of the room. His presence alone gets all attention on him, he need not even ask for it. Impressive. Let me tell you, no teacher at my school could ever pull that one off.

"Your attention please," he says smoothly, his face and voice like a snake. A snake that smells of blood. "It is time for the Victor's dance. Will our… newest Victor please make her way to the dance floor, and dance for us."

The crowd looks at me anxiously, wondering what I will do. Well, what I do is get to my feet. That, and start talking.

"No, I refuse," I say coldly, and very calmly.

The crowd all gasps, but I don't look at them. I look at Snow, and he looks as me. But I only look into his furious, snake eyes for a second. I don't want to give this man more of my time than I am required to. I turn and walk for the exit.

"That's it, run away from the fight," Snow says smoothly. "What a mouthy, young brat you truly are, Miss Wheatly. Harmless."

I stop in place, but I don't turn to reply. I won't rise to his bait. I just bend forwards, and point at my butt.

"Kiss my ass, hoe," I reply as I walk through the door.

I hear all kinds of horrified, shocked gasps behind me, but already I've closed the door as I step out into the night air. Whatever Snow may have wanted to say to me next, I don't really care to hear it.

I stand in the gentle breeze of the summer night for a while, waiting for a cab to arrive. Not far from here to the Tribute Building after all. Not far at all.

"I swear, if they assassinate me right now..." I mutter.

A moment later I hear something behind me. I turn on reflex, ready to fight, but I'm quick to relax and even awkwardly smile when I see it's just Laurel.

"...Party to remember, do you reckon?" I ask, sheepishly.

She just stands beside me, and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Please, please try and listen to reason," she whispers. "Back in Nine… they see you as a hero, an inspiration. But you're going to get yourself killed. You'll make the Capitol become worse. You need to stop before it becomes too late."

"Laurel, it _is_ too late. It was ever since I blew Cato up," I say quietly. "The time to act is now. It's now, or never. Seventy Four years of these Games and being crushed underfoot is exactly that many years too long. Don't worry, I promise you… I know what I am getting into. I'm not scared, I know what lies ahead."

"Do you _really_?" she asks, still highly anxious.

I think to myself about Phase three. Only one way it can go when the dust settles and the fire becomes an inferno to burn the Capitol within.

"I do," I say confidently. "I do… but, just please… please be on that train when it starts."

"When **what** starts?" she asks, sounding desperate. I want to tell her the plan, but… no, I can't risk _anybody_ overhearing.

"You'll know," is what I tell her. "...Thank you Laurel, for everything. Without you Mentoring me, I think I'd be dead. No doubt about it. You saved me, you know? You're my hero… and, well, you'll see that you've made a Free Panem possible."

Before Laurel can reply I fling my arms around her, embracing her tightly.

"Thank you," I whisper, shivering.

I can't help feeling happy when Laurel returns the hug. We're like this until the cab comes by to take us back to the Tribute building. Once we're there, I'll find something that isn't poisonous to eat and drink, and settle down for a good rest. I'll need it for tomorrow. Just one more night, one more peaceful night, that's all I really desire now. Not very much, but then I was never a girl who wanted many things in life. Just freedom, really.

"Hey Laurel," I say as the cab pulls up at the Tribute Building.

"Yes?" she replies. Even with her fear over how I have basically declared war on Snow in not as many words, she's still looking out for me. I hope she'll be safe.

"...Could you stay with me tonight?" I ask quietly.

She seems surprised, but then to my own surprise she hugs me.

"Of course. In the Arena or out of it… you're the first Tribute I've gotten out," she says, gently.

As we exit the cab and enter the building that was once my prison – and the prison of twenty three dead children- we start to head up to the ninth floor. As we go though, I can't help but feel a strong sense of guilt.

I really am the first one she's gotten out, aren't I?

I just hope she won't be crushed or do anything drastic. It's my plan, my crusade, my goal to leave the Capitol broken on the ground, but Laurel was the one who made the whole thing possible in the end. She was my Mentor and gave me tips and help, and good Sponsors. Her, and fallen friends like Miller, Sable, Callico and… and _Peeta_ … they've led me to this moment. They've kept me alive to tomorrow, the 'final showdown', as it were.

I hope Laurel will understand why I'm doing what I plan to. In the end, it's for the best. It's the thing that will free us all.

It's phase three.

Up to the moment I fall asleep, I make sure to tell her how I'm grateful and that she's a wonderful person. Because it's true, and I want to make sure she knows I think this. I'd like to think she believes me, one hundred percent. I never lie about hating somebody… nor do I lie when I love them, and care about them so much. Kind of like Howling Hate and Roaring Love, right?

Big today tomorrow. For now, time to sleep.


	12. End 2: The One where Anarchy Reigns

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

 **Note:** And here we are, the end of the story. The third lead to have their first story told, and what a story it was! I think hands down, Howling Hate has been the best story of The Nameless Chronicles so far. I'm getting a good grasp on how to do these kinds of stories now, I think. Details on beta elements and cut content shall be revealed on my DeviantArt page in due time (and whoops, I forgot to do the notes for Burning Snow so I better get on that!) and there's a fair bit to go into for this one. Also, to clear up some confusion I have noticed… those from Districts 1, 2, 11 and 12 (and Foxface) do not get their own stories / timelines. The idea is called The Nameless Chronicles, so only those who were truly unnamed and for the most part only there to die will get their own stories. That said, that doesn't mean the canonically named nine won't have their own big roles. Also, if you all want to easier figure out the stats of the Tributes like odds and height, no need to check screenshots, the Hunger Games wiki has it all. :) So here we are, time to end off Sickle's story! That, and it's time for the last hint… can you figure out who the 4th lead is before the reveal at the end of this chapter?

 **Hint #1:** This Tribute was aged in the range of 15 and 18 years old.

 **Hint #2:** This Tribute had odds of 15-1, or better.

 **Hint #3:** This Tribute was 5'4, or shorter.

 **Hint #4:** When Cato argued with Jason over the case of the missing knife, this Tribute was standing right next to Katniss.

* * *

It's a sunny day in Panem, or at least it is in the Capitol. Past the mountains that surround, and thus protect, the massive city the sun is shining down and casting a glowing light over the large bodies of water that the train passed when I came here after the reaping. Honestly, it's beautiful. It's a wonderful view, and one I wish I'd be able to see one last time. But, no, I have a job to do. I task to finish. A mission to complete. I, of course, mean phase three of my crusade.

But that won't start until the crowning in about an hour from now. Until then, I'm on the roof of the Tribute Building. I sit at the edge, my legs dangling over the side as I look far out over the cityscape and at the distant water. There is a lot to hate about the Capitol, but I will give admit the view isn't among those things. Now, I'd normally fear an assassination by being shoved from behind, but there is a forcefield to stop anybody from jumping… that, and many citizens below. It'd be too obvious.

That and I might land on one of them, who could break my fall. Wouldn't that be awkward, hmm?

Nothing to do now but let time tick down as I watch the sun rising. Well, that and have a nice drink. I found a nice bottle of some wine from District Nine. Really good stuff, some of the best that my home makes. I've never had any of it before, naturally, but you know… I think now is a perfect time to have some. I pour a generous amount into a glass and hold it up above me, the sunlight glinting as it reflects off of the glass.

"Here's to you Peeta," I say, thinking of the fallen boy I loved. "In your name, and the name of everybody the Capitol has killed, child or adult… today, they burn."

And I drink. It tastes… odd, but satisfying. I saw Daniel – he was Miller's Mentor – drink from this bottle and not die, so I know it's safe. I down the whole glass and set it down. Hmmm… you know, that was a pretty good drink. Who needs the Games for 'District Pride' when you have a good bottle, right? I'd love to drink more, but I don't want to get myself tipsy. I need to be able to have complete focus and concentration for the crowning ceremony.

I sit like this for a while, just looking out at the world, really. I don't have anything else to do until they come to get me and take me to the crowning. My outfit is ready down on my floor. Apparently prep work is always done right before I go on the stage so that's no issue. Plus, I've pretty much taken care of everything I had wanted to do, now that I've drank from the bottle. I've not got any unfinished business left I won't have done within the next hour or so.

"The world may be harsh and unfair, but it can be pretty," I note, setting the bottle to the side. "But I bet once the Capitol has fallen it'll be even beautiful. I'd love to be able to see it."

I'm not sure how to tell the time by the sun, but it's moved a bit from where it was when I came onto the roof. So, it can't be long until it'll be time for everything to start. Maybe I should go down and get ready early… then again, I know what day it is. Why not spoil myself a little and watch the view a bit longer?

And so I do until about ten minutes later I hear the elevator open behind me. On impulse, I quickly look back over my shoulder. I've got no reason to worry though, as it's just Laurel. She approaches me and looks out at where I am looking, maybe trying to see what I'm looking at.

"Just enjoying the view," I tell her to save us some time. "Want to join me? I got drinks."

"...You're not drunk are you?" she asks cautiously.

"I'm fine, I only had one glass," I assure her. "Daniel also had two glasses of wine from it, so that's where the rest of it went. So, want some? You know what they say, it's District Nine's finest~."

"I think after this year of Hunger Games I'd love one," Laurel says tiredly. "Maybe _after_ the crowning. I'm here to get you as we have to go and get you ready now. Royalty finished your outfit, and wants you in it within the next ten minute or he says he will die. I don't think he was joking."

"Would it be so bad if he did die?" I say, smirking.

"...I'm not sure if you are joking either," Laurel notes, looking very tired. "So, ready to go? I mean, we have to go anyway, but, well..."

I get up to my feet, and smile.

"I'm ready," I assure her, taking a deep breath. I'm at peace. "I'm more ready than anybody else in Panem. Let's go. Just..."

I trial off as we walk, and I only speak up again once we have reached the elevator.

"Just be on the train by the time the crown is put on my head," I whisper. " _Please_."

Laurel naturally wants to know more. She seems desperate, and it hurts to keep phase three to myself. But if anybody heard it would never happen. Either I'd be arrested Victor or not, or Laurel would plead me, no, beg me not to. Fact is… she might be able to stop me, as I care about her. That's exactly why I cannot tell her anything.

It's a wonder I stay tight lipped up to the elevator arriving at the ninth floor - good thing I'm Outer District, clearly – but I step out and in moments I'm swarmed by colourful bugs. No, wait, that's the prep crew. Silly me. They quickly lead me over to the rack my outfit is hung onto.

I have to admit, I really love how this one looks. Rather than the cocktail dress last night, this one is a shimmering, almost glowing green gown. Simple, but lovely and I bet simply walking in sunshine like this would make the dress sparkly immensely. The outfit is completed by two green and smooth, uh, I think they are called opera gloves – not a fashion expert! - and a pair of cosy but sleek green boots. Oh wait, there's one more thing on the rack. A necklace with a golden wolf upon it.

A lone wolf, like I claimed I was in the Arena.

"Alright guys, let's make me pretty," I say, surrendering myself to what is in store for me for just a few minutes.

Looking over myself about ten minutes later, I know I am ready. I look fierce, just how I want to come off as. Perfect.

* * *

 **(Not much later…)**

* * *

I'm in the spot only seventy three people in all of Panem, and I guess the entire history of humanity, have been in before me. I'm on the same balcony that Snow had been upon at the Tribute Parade that seems as though it happened a lifetime ago by now. But now, nobody else that had been up here with Snow stands with him. Whatever else may have been placed up here beyond my view, is gone. Now, a gigantic crowd of the Capitol citizens surround the area below – there must be tens of thousands of them, though the cheering is very chillingly subdued – and up here it's just me.

And Snow.

I sit on the wooden throne, as I was instructed to. That's fine, it gives me a few moments to think and just watch the beautiful sky. It… really is a nice day to, well, no, not yet. Still a little bit of time. So like I was saying, it's just me and Snow up here right now. I don't see any Peacekeepers surrounding us, which I find odd. Sure, there were some on the way here who searched me in case I was holding everything – they do this with every Victor they said – but naturally they found nothing. Yeah, like I'd bring a weapon up here with me, that's just asking to be arrested, and probably worse too.

Snow stands in front of me, addressing the crowd. I'm not really listening though. What do I care about what he is saying? Maybe it's a speech to try and reverse the damage I did to his rule of Panem last night, but after phase three of the plan… there is nothing he will be able to do to stop the downfall of the Capitol. He won't be able to do anything about, well, _anything_. So, I'll let him speak. I'll let him be think I'm harmless for these last few minutes.

Meanwhile, I'm just thinking about my parents – or what little I remember at least – as well as Miller, Peeta and everybody I miss. I can almost see their smiling faces again… strange thing to feel, huh? I guess life is strange, sometimes. I think that's one of the main things I've learned in fourteen years… that, and nothing can last forever. Not the Capitol, and certainly not Snow himself.

And speak of the blood scented snake, he has turned to me. I stand up promptly, as is required. Just this once though, I don't mind following what is asked – or demanded - of me. After all, Snow is approaching me now, having picked up the Victor's crown from where it rested on a cushion.

Calm Sickle. Calm.

I stand silent as Snow places the crown upon my head. It fits perfectly upon my red hair – this time, styled into a large and plaited braid that hands halfway down my back – and I noticed it's got a little bit of weight in it. Interesting.

"Congratulations," Snow says, not bothering to hide even the tiniest bit of his pure hatred for me. "Do you regret any of what you have done?"

I think about this for a moment. Do I regret it? Obviously I regret every life I took, _all_ of them. But, do I regret calling out the Capitol and causing them riots to deal with, causing unrest and rebellion and worse? Do I regret insulting Snow? Do I regret speaking my mind and doing whatever I could to ensure a Free Panem, and a world where children do not have to fear the reaping bowl?

No, not even slightly. I'd do it all over again, and worse, if I could.

"Not a single bit of it," I say to Snow, coldly. "Do you regret anything you have done? All the people you've killed, all those you made wish they _had_ died instead of getting something worse? All the agony those in the Districts go through?"

"Regret. It's a funny thing, isn't it? Some call me a monster like you. Some call me a great leader, like my citizens. To me, I don't see it as quite that simple," he muses. "I'll just say that I do not regret what is in store for you. You won't see it coming, you won't be able to avoid it. Just know that what awaits you is pain like you _**cannot**_ imagine. The reversible damage your actions may have caused will not be worth the misery your life shall be."

He says all of this in quite a calm, almost gentlemanly tone. Like he sees me as a flea, and he is a giant crushing me between his fingers. Nothing is so simply from my side of things either, though.

I don't respond to him. Not with words anyway. I just find myself quietly chuckling, and then outright giggling. I see annoyance enter his snake-eyes.

"And, what might you be finding so funny?" he asks me, his voice very firm.

I take the crown off of my head and admire it as I hold it in my right hand. It's shiny, smooth, has some weight to it, looks to be made from either real gold or a good fake and the spiky parts on top it look sharp. _**Very**_ sharp.

"Well… it's like I was saying to Caesar last night," I say, as I hold the crown idly in my hand at my side. "In the end, when all is said and done… we only have our choices, and our fear of making them."

I take in my last breath, and think of everybody I have loved or stopped myself from being too close to. I think of my home in District Nine. I think of my life and all the good memories I have. I think of Peeta most of all.

My grip on the crown narrows and I glare at Snow without any fear at all.

"And _**this**_ is my choice," I say in a deathly whisper.

In one motion, quick as a blur and before anybody could even think to make a move to stop me, I have done it. I slash Snow's throat with the sharp sections of the Victor's crown. In a moment, the crowd has stopped cheering as they were and are now in a total, deadly silence. Snow looks at me as massive amounts of blood gush out from the deep wound from his neck, the wound deeper and worse than what I gave to Clove. He's in disbelief, clearly great pain and even fear as he chokes, gasps and in moments falls backwards against the pedestal he picked up the crown from. He messes the cushion and smashes his head on the pedestal. As he hits the ground, I expect he has mere seconds to live. There's no saving him.

Phase three.

I know I don't have long left now, but I'm not afraid. I steel myself, knowing what is coming very soon, and grab the microphone that was set-up for Snow to speak into.

"The 'most powerful man' in Panem, dead in a single blow by a girl from Nine! If I can do it, anybody can!" I yell, speaking very fast. "The time is now! Move in and fight! Rebel! Burn the Capitol, and bring in a Free Panem!"

The crowd is screaming is horror and already they are starting to riot, flee and fight amongst themselves. Snow died on live television for all of Panem to see. That's the thing with mandatory viewing, everybody sees it. They saw what I did, they heard my words. I know what will happen, so without fear… I leave the rest to the Districts. I've done what I always intended to do.

Phase one: win the Hunger Games while rebelling along the way and challenging the Capitol.

Phase two: openly rebel and pour all kinds of fuel on the fire at my interview, and get the Capitol citizens to see the Games for what they are.

Phase three: kill Snow on live television in front of all of Panem and incite war upon the Capitol, even at the cost of my own life.

Suddenly, I feel a horrible pain in my gut. It's like nothing I have ever felt. It hurts, it hurts! But when I try to scream nothing comes out except a choked wheeze. Beyond my control, the force of what hit me sends me falling to the ground where I lay in a crumpled heap near Snow's corpse. From here, I can see the beautiful sky but as I weakly look down I see my sparkling green dress has become a nasty shade of red. Of course, it was a bullet. A horrible, painful bullet.

I'm dying.

But that was always the plan. Kill Snow and start off the push to leave the Capitol burning and broken. I knew all along I was going to die, but I wasn't afraid. Even now, in so much pain and wanting to cry… I'm not afraid. I'm not…

Like I told Peeta, I wasn't afraid to die. Just of dying too soon, before I could take Snow down with me. And now, I know it won't be along…

I hear the screaming below and far beyond. The Capitol is falling apart already with their leader gone. The Districts will move in and crush them underfoot, and Panem... will be free.

It's hard to move now, and everything feels distant and slow. That bullet must have hit me worse than any knife, sword or Mutt ever did. But, as I'm bleeding badly and getting closer to death every second, I carefully move my arm. Despite the pain, I close my hand into a fist. Lastly, I raise up my middle finger. I'd want them to find my body like this, defiant until the very end and past it too.

I hear people are running up, storming their way to where Snow lays dead and I lay almost the same. Its hard to even narrate my thoughts… but I'm at peace. Laurel agreed to wait on the train, so she'll be ok. The other orphans… they'll be ok. Panem… yeah, I think it'll be ok as well, with the Capitol left flailing and so vulnerable.

I feel almost gone to the world, but even in death, I have something I can look forward to.

"Peeta… coming… see..." I wheeze out, my words barely forming.

I feel myself being put onto something… a stretcher? I don't know, but it doesn't matter. I'll be gone before they can do anything anyway. With… the… job done, what could they… do to me… anyway?

I just let my eyes finally... close and allow myself to drift... off. I'm ready to rest in peace, my mission... completed…

* * *

 **(Time passes…)**

* * *

...A distant sound. Is it walking? Maybe it's tapping… I don't know.

It smells weird. Like a mixture between dirty water and old meat. I wrinkle my nose. I don't like the smell of it. Wait, smell? Smelling is a sense. A sense is something that only a person who is alive can posses.

I'm alive!

Or, am I in an afterlife of some kind? I can't tell, everything is completely black. Oh wait, my eyes are closed and I'm laying down on something mid-way between rock solid and somewhat soft. Better open my eyes, huh? It's a struggle though, finding the energy to get them open… but, I somehow find it in me.

No sunlight. No beautiful sky. I'm inside a building, I think. Or perhaps I am underground? Either way, it's dark. The walls are grey and featureless. The ground is much the same, besides a small stain in that one spot – nothing as 'exciting' as blood, I think it's just gravy or something – but as I very wearily sit myself up, I see there are bars. But not just any bars, these ones are electrified. They glow a dangerous looking scarlet, somehow, which would be pretty if I was not on _this_ side of them. Touching them would surely be agony.

Yep, it's a jail cell. Just a bed which I am placed on, a toilet off to the side and several cameras… all looking at me. Wait, the toilet and cameras… oh come on, I didn't think the Capitol was THAT gross!

"You sick freaks," I mutter, shaking my head.

At least the pillow is kind of soft, but it's no comfort. Mainly as I have no idea what is going on. Snow's dead. This is fact. I'm alive… but, how? I was shot, and badly. But like the last time I woke up after passing out, I'm fixed back up once more with there being no signs of any wound having been there. ...Why fix me up? I'm in a cell so it has to be the Capitol. And if it's them, why did they fix up the girl who killed their leader, and has them at the Districts mercy?

I guess they must need me alive for something. Well, if that's the case I guess I don't need to worry about dying for a while. Though, my mission complete, I don't really mind if I do. I'm not scared. But if staying alive after what I thought was my certain death means I can continue to oppose them and bring them down quicker and with less lost lives, I don't mind the chance to do so.

"I wonder how long I was out for," I eventually say after sitting on my bed for a few minutes, nothing happening. "A few hours, maybe?"

Those footsteps I thought I heard before, they are near now. I might be getting the answers I want after all. So, I sit myself firmly upwards and wait. I wonder who will be speaking to me? Not Snow, of course, but maybe a Gamemaker? A Peacekeeper? Somebody here to try and threaten me? Threats do not work if the one being threatened is not afraid of dying, or of pain.

From the hall that leads to my cell, somebody walks into my view. Instantly, I realise that… I have no idea who the _hell_ this guy is. He's a tall man, maybe in his late thirties or mid forties perhaps, and looks to be decently well built. Strong enough to be a Peacekeeper, but no, he lacks the uniform. He's wearing what looks like a dark green, and gold, general outfit of some kind - or at least something to do with the military – and his expression is very firm and tight. A serious man, I bet. His hair is short and dark brown, kind of shaved at the sides… all of these things things I am noticing tell me nothing about who the hell this guy is, though.

He speaks.

"You've actually been 'out' for a week," he says, looking at me like I am a foul bug crawling near him. "You were almost dead when you were bought to the surgery room… but, the Capitol doctors are the best there is, so you were saved. After your little stunt you must be wondering why we want you alive? After all, Snow is dead."

"You want me alive because you want to question me," I guess. "I don't have to tell you anything. Whatever I say to you, the Capitol is doomed and you know it."

"...Oh, my sweet summer child," the man says, smirking a little. "The Capitol is a power above all else. _Nothing_ could ever defeat it, especially not a small girl. You've caused us a lot of damage, true. Here are riots in the streets and in the Districts, yes. Are there problems? ...There are. But they will be fixed, the damage reversed and new rules put in place. You are going to regret _**everything**_ you have done. You thought the Arena was bad? ...You'll be begging to go back."

"I mean if it means I don't have to listen to your talking, take me right now," I say, smirking.

The man roars, looking angry as he punches the wall. Holy crap, he dented it! That… that was metal, right? What is this guy made out of? He can't be fully human, can he? With a red face, snarling lips and eyes full of more hate than Snow's own, he steps closer to my cell, looking at me in purest loathing.

"Killing Snow and setting off all that rebellion may have caused setbacks, but you have changed nothing. You want to know why?" he hisses, fast and in rage. "I'm the President now. President Antonius Light, previously the Minister of Defence. I held the military, and now I have that and full power thanks to you getting rid of the one above me. The Capitol has better weapons than the Districts. There _will_ be fire-bombs. There _will_ be executions. There _**will**_ be many thousands dead."

"You're wrong," I hiss, still confident. "You're wrong. Nothing built can last forever. The end of the Capitol is coming… it has to. Nobody will forget what happened. Not the Districts. Not the Capitol Citizens… nothing can undo that damage."

"Fear can cease any kind of dangerous thoughts!" Antonius barks, still red in the face. "...You're going to love the Quell. I know I shouldn't spoil it, but I can't keep a secret. Tributes aged from eight to twelve, all from District Nine."

Suddenly, my face is very cold and my heart is beating fast.

"...That'd only increase rebellion," I say, trying not to stammer.

"New rules past the Quell! Four Tributes every year, with reaping age from ten to twenty," Antonius continues. "We'll call it 'Sickle's Law'."

He leans closer to my cell, leering with a monstrous smile. I wish he'd lean close enough to zap himself on the bars. Slowly, I stand and approach him too.

"You thought things were bad when Snow was in power?" he asks me. "You've seen nothing yet, little girl."

I could scream and cry, let out my tears. I could beg him to not do it, and offer up myself as a sacrifice to whatever horrific torture he wants. I could offer to try and fix the damage. But, none of these things are my style, nor would they change what he seems completely set on doing.

So, I spit a thick dollop of saliva right into his eye.

Again, he roars in anger and punches the wall. Another dent… is this man part-Mutt or something? No, he's not… but he is a madman. Snow was a monster but at least was composed. This guy… if he is able to crush all the fighting and rebellion going on right now than he's going to make everything even worse!

...All because of me…

Antonio says something else and leaves me alone, but I don't listen to him. I just walk over to the corner of my cell and sink down to the ground. It's hard not to cry, and I fail. I cry. I just drawn up my knees and sob into them.

I made everything worse.

I thought… I thought so sincerely that if Snow was killed on live television, making him and the Capitol look so powerless and weak it would leave the whole city flailing and struggling, allowing the Districts to move in and attack, totally overwhelm them. And, they are fighting. Antonius confirmed it's going on and that it is a problem. But if he wins this… if the Capitol crush a second rebellion. Oh my God, the thought makes me want to be sick.

I actually do puke.

I'm like this for an hour, maybe two, but then I manage to pull myself together and get to my feet. I wipe away the tears and I ball my fists. Slowly, I walk over to my bed and sit on it. I'm thinking, and… and you know what? This is not the end!

Snow fell so easily. Would Antonius be any harder, raised security or not? But, would somebody take his place, or would that be the final nail in the Capitol's coffin? I'll have to try though, right? It's only over when nobody dares, or cares, to try anymore. I'm not giving up… I'm alive, and that means I can still fight against them and I can still fix this.

Saving me was their biggest mistake. I'll make sure to take full advantage… they'll want to interrogate me, that's for sure. But what do they want to know? I never really knew anything because I acted one hundred percent independently… wait, wait a second.

Do Antonius and the rest of the Capitol think I know much more than I truly do? Is that why they saved me instead of letting me die? Because they incorrectly assumed I have secret, dangerous knowledge that they require in order to extinguish the inferno I've started? Maybe I'm wrong, but the thought of this is somehow so funny to me it makes me start to smirk.

It's not over. Phase three is done, but now I think it might be time to add a few more phases to the plan, don't you think?

Hmmm… phase four: bluff about made-up shit during interrogations to throw them off, learn anything I can from them and find a way to escape the Capitol alive.

Phase five… I don't know. But I'll live to see it happen. I've been giving a second chance at life that I never expected or felt I really deserved, and I won't waste it. The Games have begun, and now it's time to keep things going. More fuel on the fire.

I let myself lay down on the bed and I think. I think for hours until I feel ready to pass out from exhaustion. I think about what I can do now, and I think of plans to help the rebellion. If I think of a few hundred of them, I'm sure at least a few will work.

But, I have a time limit now. One year. I have until the Quell to defeat the Capitol, or at least have them in such a bad state that putting on the Hunger Games will be impossible for them. Because if I can't… the idea of such a Quell, such a horrific punishment to District nine… No! No, it won't happen!

I survived the forest Arena. It seems Panem has become an Arena too… and you know what, I think I can survive this one too, no matter what Antonius thinks. I just need to bide my time, keep fighting… and do what comes natural, I guess.

For Miller, for Sable, for Peeta… for everybody who has died from these tyrants, I'll overthrow the Capitol. I just pray Laurel made it out alright. I think next time I see her, I owe her more than just an apology… but that's then, this is now. And right now, I'm the Lone Wolf I said I was. A wolf ready to attack.

I slowly stand up and I stare right right into a camera with hard, fierce eyes.

" _ **Bring it on**_ ," I say, coldly.

* * *

 **END OF BOOK 1…**

* * *

 **TRIBUTE NOTES**

 **Sickle:** From feedback I have gotten, it would appear Sickle is hands down the most beloved lead thus far. I suppose a big part of it is that she is much more active and ready to do things, good or bad, than Urchin and Gadget before her and she's also a lot braver than the two of them were. With some critique on those two being that they were passive and either a bit too every-man (Urchin) or overly depressed/cowardly (Gadget) I felt the third lead should be one of the furthest of those traits. Enter Sickle, another of the younger Tributes but one who is bold, determined, rather cheeky, has zero respect for authority and has absolutely no fear to call out the Capitol and give them so many problems to deal with. A rebel without bothering to be subtle over it. Sickle had flaws like being impulsive, never shutting up when she ought to, her black and white view regarding the Districts and Capitol, and her overconfidence in her plan… but I think rather than making her a bitch, it made her a more likeable character in spite of how she can be, well, a bitch sometimes. After all, she had her good qualities like how when she did allow herself to care for people she'd do anything for them, her willingness to show mercy to Clove out of both rebellion and sympathy, how despite her rough edges she always had genuinely good intent in the end, fully expecting and accepting that she would die for her plan to bring on a Free Panem. And while her flaws remain… she has time to grow up a bit and mature, next time we see her. After all, she is still alive. When watching the first movie I noticed there were no Peacekeepers on any sort by Katniss/Peeta and Snow, and I had wondered… what if there was a Tribute who did not care about dying and who decided to kill Snow where he stood? Why not try? The crown looked very sharp… and so, this story was born! As we, and Sickle, see though, things are not always that simple. What was simple though was her move to blow up Cato at the start. To me, it seems a great, and obvious, idea. But now Sickle's gotten herself into a very bad situation… but one day, she will return...

* * *

 **NEXT TIME ON THE NAMELESS CHRONICLES…**

 **SPOILED SAPLING**

Most Tributes have lived hard lives full of suffering, but at least have gained skills to help them in the Arena. The District 7 Female, the Mayor's daughter, has lived a life of relative pampering and very little hardship, and has few skills to speak of that could help her in the Arena. Elegant, smart and a born leader, things look grim when Nettle's Mentor tells her to just die fast in the Bloodbath… and so, she fakes her death as the mayhem goes on. Alive, but still very outclassed and outskilled, can Nettle make it home?


End file.
